#i also had a slide i was making on wires and how you can draw them aa one solid cluster | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ruh--roh-raggy · 11 months ago

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Heart of Wires (Sundrop/Moondrop x DCA!OC Piper)

Hello hello! Welcome to something new and different from me!!! This is my first time writing Sundrop, this is also my first time making an OC! It is with my greatest pleasure that I introduce you to Piper Belle Healy! This whole fic is going to be slow burn, super tooth rottingly sweet fluff. I'm just enamored by these big Bois, I wanna hold their hands and kiss them on the cheek. SO THATS WHAT IM GUNNA DO!! I hope you enjoy! Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

WARNINGS: None

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 3,985

Part 2

“Good morning!” The chipper blond welcomed her with a gapped tooth smile as she sang her greeting. “Piper, right?” The red head nodded in confirmation. “Perfect. I'm Meredith, everyone calls me Merry, I'm gonna be the one showing you around the Pizzaplex!” She motions for Piper to follow her, pushing through the turnstiles with ease before walking into the main lobby. “I’ll give you a more thorough run down after your shift, they never listen when I tell them to have you come tour the place beforehand.” She sighs, stepping onto an escalator and casually leaning up against the railing. “You’re going to be in the daycare, so you’ll be working with Sundrop. It should be pretty easy; arts and crafts, making sure the kids don't hurt themselves, nap time, nothing too crazy. Sun can walk you through it, anything you need, just ask him.”

“Some interesting nicknames around here.” She remarks with a lopsided smile. “Merry and Sun.”

“Oh, Sundrop is his real name!” She responds with a laugh. “I take it you haven't gotten to meet any of the animatronics yet?” Merry gives her an excited glance.

“No, I've seen the posters and stuff, pictures of them in the office when I went in for my interview, things like that, but I haven't, uh, met them?” She says giving the taller blond a look of confusion. ‘Why would I have to introduce myself to a robot?’ She thinks, quickly shaking the thought as she rushes to keep up. She approached a set of large, wooden double doors, the gold handles glistening in the low lighting. She holds the door open for her with a smile, motioning for Piper to walk in ahead of her. Piper fidgets with the sleeves of her sweater, looking around the room to see shoe cubbies and hangers for coats and bags about halfway up the wall. The faded paint was covered in drawings of kids standing next to who you were assuming to be the daycare animatronics. Both of them are tall and slender, one with a sun shaped head, the other a moon. The sun wore yellow and red striped pants that billowed loosely down his legs, you noticed most of the kids had drawn what must have been bells on his wrists and ankles. The moon was dressed similarly, only his pants had white stars against a dark blue background, a matching sleep cap sitting atop his head. She smiled, breathing out a soft laugh as she ran her finger over the waxy artwork.

“We could take the stairs, but the slide’s faster.” Piper jumps as Merry suddenly starts talking. She chuckles seeing the shorter woman’s expression, pointing to a tube that must have led down to the daycare.

“Slide it is.” Piper giggles in response. Merry grabs onto the railing above the slide, jumping slightly before flinging herself down the plastic tunnel. Piper hears the clatter of plastic below before Merry calls for her to come down. She excitedly hops into the slide, unable to stop herself from smiling as she rushes downwards. She yelps slightly as the slide abruptly ends and she’s flung into the waiting ball pit below.

“Sunny! I’ve got a new friend for you to meet!” Merry cups her hands around her mouth as she calls out in the massive playroom.

“A new friend? Oh, how exciting!” Piper hears a voice call from above. Her eyes widen as she sees a large clown with a sun shaped head spin out onto a platform overlooking the daycare. In one swift motion he dove from the platform and into the ballpit, mere feet in front of her. Piper scrambled to find solid ground, hoisting herself up onto the rubber mat covered floor, her foot slipping on one of the yellow pool noodle covered edges. Two sets of articulate robotic fingers wrap around the foam in front of her before the robot hoists himself up to his full height, she scrambles backwards, screaming as she bumps into Merry.

“It’s alright! Piper, this is who you’re working with!” She drops down to her side, shaking her slightly in an attempt to break her out of her panic. She froze, her chest heaving as she watched the golden points whirl around his face.

“You said he was an animatronic!” She exclaims, motioning rapidly to the human-esque figure in front of her.

“He is!” She exclaims. “The technology for him is very advanced, it’s something the owners have been perfecting their entire lives.” She explains with a smile. She looks between the animatronic and the nearly shaking girl in front of her. “Sundrop, this is Piper, she’s the new daycare attendant.” He stands there for a moment. His unreadable expression makes her heart race.

“New daycare attendant, hm?” He suddenly speaks, his voice was so expressive, if she wasn't so terrified of his monstrously tall stature Piper would've been amazed. He slinks closer to her, kneeling down to bring his face directly in front of hers. “I’ll warn you now, the daycare isn’t a place for amateurs.” She furrowed her brows at him.

“I’ll have you know I’m wonderful with children.” She sits up, he jolts back as she suddenly gets close to him. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t make assumptions about me considering you just met me a few seconds ago.” He seemed a bit taken aback at her sudden change in demeanor. Just a moment ago she looked so timid and scared, but now she looked like she was ready to bite his head off.

“I’ll let your work speak for you then.” He stands, grabbing her gently by the wrist and hoisting her up with him.

“Sun, play nice, she’s the best resume that’s applied for the daycare in a long time. Who knows, maybe you might even like her.” She smiles and winks at him. She turns to Piper, “I’ll swing back by here at lunchtime, I’ll help you find your way to the cafeteria.” She offers happily. “And don’t let him make you nervous, he’s a drama queen anyways.” She teases, making Piper giggle.

“I wonder why? It’s not like my programming was originally meant for the theater or anything.” He responds sarcastically.

“Show her around the daycare, give her a run down of the schedule, don’t kill each other.” She counts out the tasks on her fingers. “Think both of you can handle that?” They both nod. She gives both of them a wave over her shoulder as she heads off to get ready for her shift.

“So, we start off with free play.” He motions for her to follow him as he prattles on about the schedule for the day. He shows her where all the craft supplies are, where to find the adult-only tools like sharp scissors and permanent markers. He explained that during naptime is when she would meet Moondrop, “let him handle putting the kids down, he doesn’t like it when someone interrupts his system.” He explains. “Other than that, if you’ve worked with kids before, you should know what you’re doing already.” He sighs, obviously expecting her to fail from the start.

“I think I can handle it, don’t worry.” She squeaks with mock confidence, trying to find some way to change the animatronics tune towards her. “Sundrop?” He turns to her. “I’m really looking forward to working with you, I’m sure I can learn a lot.” She noticed how the whirrs and pings of his internal mechanisms grew slightly louder at her compliment. His eyes flicker over her face for a moment.

“Thank you, Piper.”

Piper watches as child after child comes down the slide into the Superstar Daycare. “Friends, if I could interrupt your playtime for just one moment, I have an important announcement to make!” She was pleasantly surprised at how quickly the screams and laughter of the children died down, Sun easily able to catch their attention. “Some of you might have noticed there's a new face around the Daycare today. I would like to introduce all of you to Miss Piper.” There was a chorus of small hello's and hi’s from the group. She jump as Sun suddenly claps his hands together, telling them all they could go back to playing. He strides up to her, her eyes trailing up his long thin frame as he stretches farther above her than anyone she had ever met. She guessed that Sun stood somewhere around 7 feet tall, compared to her short stature he looked nothing short of a gigantic. “Go grab the markers from the supply closet, I'll take care of pulling out the tables and chairs.”

“You know it wouldn’t kill you to say please.” Piper huffs before turning on her heels and hurrying off to get set up for drawing time. Sun can’t help but watch her retreat. Out of all of his time in the Pizzaplex he had never met anyone like her, staff member or otherwise. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind, that was apparent from the small little quips she had spit out at him. Granted, he knew he had a tendency to be a bit harsh towards new hires, but that was only because almost everyone they sent him was incompetent. It's not that Sundrop was mean, he was just a perfectionist. The Daycare Attendants he has worked with in the past didn't care about the kids like he did, they didn't have the same passion for the glitter covered stick figures they would be presented with. But there was something different about Piper. Sun saw how you immediately stopped when one of the kids ran up to you, stooping down to scoop the small boy up in her arms to head in the direction he was pointing in. A ball had gotten stuck in one of the rungs on the play place, too high for any of the kids to reach safely. He watched as she maneuvered herself carefully up the brightly colored structure, wiggling the ball loose before climbing back down. She hands the ball over to the boy, giving him a high five and praising him for asking for help. She smiles as the boy runs off to play with his friends. Her eyes meet Sun’s, causing her to freeze. She lets out a sigh of relief, smiling softly as he offers her a subtle thumbs up. Sun walks away, going to set up the tables for the next activity.

“What do we have here?” A voice purrs in Sun’s head.

“There's a new Daycare Attendant.” Sun mutters quietly out loud.

The voice groans, “another one? They keep sending us these stupid humans-”

“I thought the same thing. But she seems… different.” He explains, sliding the tables across the floor.

“So that's what woke me up.” He lets out a raspy chuckle. “I guess I’ll have to see what she’s like in a couple hours.” The warmth in the back of Sun's head dissipates as his counterpart returns to sleep.

“Sundrop?” He's snapped from his thoughts by her melodic voice. He turns to find Piper standing there with multiple bins of art supplies stacked in her arms. “I have all the crayons, markers, glitter, stickers, glue sticks, and stamps.” He smiles as he listens to her list off everything he would have grabbed. “I'm having some trouble finding the paper.” She admits bashfully.

“Here, let me take these.” The cold tips of his metal fingers brush against hers as he takes the stack of containers from her. He spreads them out across the tables before turning back to her. “Let’s go look for that paper.” She was a bit shocked by his response, she was waiting for him to start yelling at her. He didn't seem too keen on working with someone new, her not being able to complete such a simple task should've set him off. She follows him into the supply closet, he lets out a soft hum as he scans over the shelves. “Here we go.” He pulls out a pack of paper and hands it to her. It appeared to be at the back of one of the very top shelves, a place she couldn't have reached if she tried. “I'll make sure to get all the paper moved down to where you can get it.” He states simply before walking back out into the daycare, leaving Piper to watch him duck out of the closet in a state of confusion. He had seemed to completely change from the animatronic she had met earlier this morning, and she couldn't figure out just what exactly had spurred the sudden shift. She got everything set up for drawing time; separating the stack of paper into smaller piles to make it easier for all the kids to share, opening all the containers and removing a couple markers that had been left uncapped and had dried out. You heard the excited screams and talking of the kids as they ran over to draw. Sun had a child in either arm, a third clung to his leg as he moved in your direction.

“Miss Piper?” Her attention was caught by a girl with strawberry blond pigtails as she tugged on her sleeve.

“Hi honey, what’s your name?” She asks cheerily, kneeling down to be closer to the girl's eye level.

“Haley.” She responds with a huge smile, her two front teeth missing.

“It’s nice to meet you Haley, what’s up?” She looks bashfully over at Sundrop before her eyes immediately dart back to Piper.

“Do you think you could help me draw a picture for Mr. Sun?” She holds out the orange crayon she had clutched in her fist. “I want to make something for him but he’s really hard to draw.”

“Of course I can.” Piper smiles brightly at her, letting out a soft chuckle at her excited expression. Haley grabs Piper by the hand, tugging her back to where she was sitting, telling all of her friends that Piper would help them make pictures for Mr. Sun. She couldn't help but smile as her time was filled with giving high fives to all the excited kids as they showed off their drawings to her, drawing a quick Sundrop head for the kids to color, and being asked a million questions about her bright colored jewelry and fun outfit. Little did she know, the whole time Sun was keeping a close eye on her, absolutely delighted by what he saw.

“How’s everyone doing over here?”

“Sunny!”

“Mr. Sun!”

“Sundrop!” Piper looks over her shoulder to see the large animatronic had made his way over to where she was working.

“Is it okay if I sit here Miss Piper?” He asks with a smile, motioning to the chair next to her. He noticed how some of the kids must have placed stickers on her cheeks, her freckles laced with sparkly stars and neon smiley faces.

“Sure, Sundrop.” She smiles sweetly at him. He crouches into the comically small chair, his knees pressed to his chest.

“Miss Piper’s been helping us draw you Mr. Sun.” Haley exclaims, giggling when the animatronic gives her an amazed expression.

“Really? You all wanted to draw me?” They all clamored over to him, wanting to show off their pictures, most of them drawings of Sundrop holding hands with that child, ‘best friends’ scrawled across the bottom in messy script. “These are so wonderful!” He leans in closer to the group, they all copy his motions with wide eyes, waiting eagerly to see what he would say to them. “How about next you guys draw some pictures of Miss Piper?” They all silently agree before hurriedly turning back to their papers and crayons. He leans back in his chair. “I'll have to admit Piper, you're doing an amazing job.” She found heat settling behind her cheeks at the compliment, her eyes darting over to meet his glowing white ones.

“Thank you, Sundrop.” She smiles shyly.

“You can call me Sun, less of a mouthful.” He chuckles. “If Moon likes you you'll have passed your trial run.” There was a slight teasing tone in his voice.

“Well, lets hope for the best then.” She smiles at him.

She was grateful for nap time once it rolled around, with so many kids it was hard to find a moment to catch her breath. “Go pick your spot.” She shoos off a small boy into the other room, dimming the lights as they all settle in. She softly shuts the door, tucking herself away in a corner so she wouldn't get in Moon’s way. She wondered why she hadn't seen any sign of the animatronic all day. Her eyes immediately drifted to Sun as he stepped in the room, as he shut the door you watch his face spin around, all of the points surrounding his head getting tucked away as a sleep cap appeared. She blinked, the gold and red stripes on his pants suddenly turning to stars.

“You must be this new Daycare Attendant I heard about.” His voice was much raspier than Sun’s, he turned to face Piper, a noticeable difference in his face from the animatronic that had just stepped in the room in front of her. The moon on his face was much more prominent, the other side of his face being blacked out save for his glowing white eye. She was amazed at the complexities of their system, not to mention the immediate difference she noticed in their personalities, if she hadn’t just seen the change in front of her she wouldn't have believed this was the same animatronic. “You just sit back here, I’ll make this quick… and try to stay awake.” He chuckles before slinking off into the dark room. She heard the soft gasps and calls for Moon that he gently shushed, patting each child's head that greeted him as he made his way to the center of the room. The soft sounds of a music box beginning to chime filled the room, a tapestry of stars slowly rotated around the ceiling. Almost like magic Piper noticed the kids near her fall asleep one by one, every one of them in the room asleep by the time his song ended. She found herself yawning, pushing her round, wire framed glasses onto the top of her head as she wiped her eyes. She stretched, her spine letting out a soft pop as she pulled her arms over her head. Her eyes fluttered open, her hand immediately clapping over her mouth to suppress the scream that had welled up in her throat. Moondrop’s face was mere inches away from her own, he studied her closely, slowly crawling around her with almost spider like movements.

“I'm assuming you must be Moon?” She whispers nervously, his gaze didn't feel as judgemental as when she first met Sun, but he still made her nervous nonetheless. He offers her a small nod in response. “I’m Piper.”

“Sun seems very impressed with you Miss Piper.” He coos softly. “I do have to say you're definitely a lot prettier than the usual Daycare Attendants they send us.” He chuckles at her flustered expression. He runs a finger over one of the star stickers on her cheek. “The kids seem to like you too, that’s good.” He carefully maneuvers around her, propping himself up against the wall at her side. “How are you enjoying your first day?”

“It’s been good, definitely not what I was expecting.” She giggles, Moon felt a strange pang in his chest at the sight of her smile. She looks out over the group of sleeping children. “You know, that?” She makes a vague motion to the room. “Very impressive.”

“I have a bit of a talent.” He chuckles in response.

“Do you only come out for nap time?” He was a bit surprised by the genuine curiosity in her tone.

“I can only come out when the lights are off.” He explains. “Nap time, sleepovers, Sun and I switch off after hours.” She sat and quietly chatted with Moon for the rest of nap time, Piper found herself a bit sad to see him go.

“It was wonderful getting to know you.” She smiles softly at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Piper.” The lights gradually grew brighter as nap time came to an end. The sleepy yawns of kids and soft giggles of them talking amongst themselves filled the room.

“Well, good morning!” Sun greets the kids cheerfully as they head back out into the main play area. She timidly makes her way up to his side, feeling a bit awkward standing next to the tall robot. “I take it everything went well with Moon?” She could tell by the softness his expression held that he already knew the answer to that.

“I hope so.” She smiles at him. “I don't want either of you to think I'm an amateur.” She mocks his assumption from the morning with a wink, making him chuckle.

“You definitely proved you're not an amateur Piper.” His hand gently comes to rest on the top of her head. Piper feels a blush spread across her cheeks as he pats the spot between her messy, copper space buns. “I'm sure they're all hungry, let's get them set up for snack time.”

“He hasn't been giving you a rough time, has he?” Merry asks as she hands you a tray.

“No, I've actually been having a lot of fun working with him.” She admits with a small shrug and a bashful smile.

“What about Moondrop?” She follows up.

“He was also wonderful.” You reassure her.

“I'm impressed.” She mumbles as she starts to grab things to eat. “The last three people they hired had already been run off by now.” She chuckles. “I guess they did end up liking you after all.”

“I can't get over how much personality they have.” Piper smiles excitedly.

“I mean, they might as well be people with how complex of a machine they are. They're fully articulate, their AI lets them experience emotion, they're pretty much just like us without the internal organs.” They both pay for their lunches and sit down. “So, now that you've spent a couple hours with them, do you think you’re going to keep the job?” She seemed almost nervous as she asked her.

“Oh, absolutely!” Piper beams. She hurries through her lunch, exchanging goodbye’s with Merry before she heads back to the daycare. So she wouldn't cause a disruption she decided to take the stairs down to the main play area.

“Welcome back.” Sun smiles at her as she approaches. The rest of the day flew by as Piper got dragged off by a small group of kids to go play. She couldn't help but laugh as she caught sight of a girl wearing pastel pink fairy wings riding around on Sundrop’s shoulders, pretending like she was flying. Slowly your group became smaller and smaller as parents arrived to pick up their children, before you knew it you and Sun were alone, cleaning up the disaster left behind. “I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot this morning.” He suddenly apologizes, nervously tapping the curled golden toe of his shoe on the floor.

“It’s okay, from what Merry told me they threw in some real pieces of work before me.” She giggles in response. “We can always try again tomorrow.” He pauses, straightening up to look at her.

“Piper?” She hums softly, her blue eyes landing on him. Sun felt the words catch in his throat for a second. He takes a few steps closer to her, retrieving a yellow sun sticker from the booklet he kept in his pocket. He presses it to the apple of her cheek, her soft warm skin squishing under his finger as she smiles at his action. “Welcome to the team.”

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @twelvelevens

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almostangrything · 6 months ago

Text

Last one for right now.

TexLaska- Smut

It was 9:15pm when Texas got home from work. Since everyone had their own houses and all, the statehouse was rarely full. Only Gov, Florida, Loui, New York, California, and himself were almost always there. Texas had very long workdays, usually twelve hours, from 9am to 9pm. He loved his job as an electrician, but it was tiring. He was usually the last back to the statehouse, unless somebody was partying and got home at 3 in the morning.

Texas sets down his tool bag and gets a glass of water. He leans against the kitchen counter, drinking his water and staring off into space. "Gah, today was awful," Texas thought to himself. His back ached and so did his hands. he would need to see his chiropractor again sometime soon. He washes out his empty cup and sets it on the rack to dry. He picks up his tool bag and walks into the living room to see... Alaska?

"What in tarnation is he doin' here?" Texas thinks to himself. Alaska was sitting on the couch, dozing off. Texas had always felt intimidated by the man. After all, he was the only person in the statehouse who was taller and stronger than Texas. Texas hated him, from his stupid hat to his stupid shirt to his stupid handsome face to his stupid muscles... "No! I can't be thinkin' like that. I'm a man, for goodness sake," Texas says in his mind. He wasn't gay... Right?

Alaska opens his eyes and sees the other state, who was leaning against the wall. "Hey, Little Buddy," Alaska says, grinning. He loved calling Texas stuff like that. He didn't mind Texas all that much, but it was fun to make fun of him and put him in his place. Texas growls, "Don't call me that." "Awh, but why not?" Alaska chuckles. "I've told you before, I ain't tellin' ya again." Texas looks away. Alaska sighs and says, "Here, come sit down. You look like you've had a rough day. Why not have a drink?" He holds up a beer and pats the spot next to him. Texas begrudgingly sits next to him. Alaska hands Texas a beer and opens one for himself. Texas also opens his bottle.

"Cheers," Alaska says kindly. "Cheers..." Texas replies unenthusiastically. They clink their bottles together and drink. They sit in silence for a while, drinking their beer. "So... How was work today?" Alaska asks, trying to make polite conversation. "Like usual." Texas' short answer left Alaska's face unamused. Texas notices Alaska's expression and sighs. "By that I mean awful. I've been fixin' wires and telephone poles all day. I don't know which hurts more, my back or my hands." Alaska nods. "Electrical work isn't very easy, huh?" "Damn right..." Texas sighs again.

Alaska very gently puts and arm around Texas and draws him close. Texas pulls away, but Alaska firmly pulls him back. "Oh, no, you don't." Alaska holds Texas tightly and kisses his cheek. "You've had such a rough day, why don't you relax?" Texas grumbles. "Oh, fine," he says begrudgingly. Alaska smiles and kisses Texas on the lips. Texas is shocked at first, but he slowly leans in and kisses Alaska back.

Alaska pulls Texas closer and deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue into Texas' mouth. Texas moans slightly and reciprocates. They kiss deeply for a few more seconds before pulling away for air. A bead of their shared saliva connects their tongues. Alaska allows Texas a few seconds of breath before kissing him again. A little later, Alaska pulls back, looking concerned. "Texas, I want to go further, but I'll need your consent. And don't worry, you can stop at any time, I won't be mad, "Alaska says. Texas nods and responds. "I give you my full consent. Now shut up and kiss me again."

Alaska smiles and pulls Texas close again, kissing him deeply. He starts to unbutton the Texan's shirt, and Texas does as well. Alaska also takes off his own shirt. They were both big, muscular men, but Alaska was bigger. Texas had more of a softer edge, which he felt a little self-conscious about. But Alaska looked at Texas and smiled. "You're so pretty, Texas," Alaska states. "I-I could say the same about you, " Texas replies.

Alaska chuckles and starts to kiss Texas' neck, licking and biting gently, leaving little marks. Texas smiles and makes little whimpering noises. Alaska leaves a trail of kisses down Texas' neck to his chest and down his torso, stopping at the waistline of Texas' jeans. Alaska slides down Texas' pants as well as his own. "Wait, are you sure we should be doin' this here?" Texas asks cautiously. "Nobody will be home for a while," Alaska replies. "Alright."

Alaska and Texas were both now wearing just their boxers and hats, and the tension between them was mounting. Alaska leans over Texas. "You ready?" Texas nods. "I'm ready." Alaska smiles and kisses Texas briefly before pulling off his boxers and Texas'. Texas' eyes widened. Alaska's dick was at least three inches longer than his own. Alaska raises an eyebrow and smirks, saying, "Shocked?" "A-A little..." Texas responds. "Heh, think you can handle it?" "I know I can," Texas huffs. Alaska leans in to kiss Texas again, teasing the state's entrance with his cock. Texas squirms around a little bit. "Agh, stop teasing me, ya jerk."

Alaska chuckles and thrusts his cock into Texas' hole. Texas gives a sharp cry of pleasure, mixed with a little bit of pain. Alaska wasn't using lube, so it would hurt a bit. "How do you like that, huh?" Alaska asks, whispering in Texas' ear. Texas whimpers in response. "Want to keep going?" Texas nods. "Y-Yeah... We've come this far, we might as well." Alaska nods and begins to move back and forth, creating friction between them. With each thrust, Texas moans in a voice that is higher than his usual voice. His moans are muffled, as Texas was holding his hand over his mouth.

Alaska keeps thrusting into Texas, breathing heavily while making hickeys on Texas' neck. Texas begins to move in sync with Alaska, desperate for more friction. Alaska picks up on this and starts to thrust harder and faster, pumping all his pent-up stress and anger into the other state. Texas' moans become more frequent, and his eyes start to roll back into his head the harder and faster Alaska goes. "F-Fuck... I think I'm gonna-" Texas cuts himself off as he reaches an orgasm, his semen spewing out all over his stomach.

Alaska still thrusts into Texas, causing him to cum again. Texas is breathing heavily and his eyes are rolled back. His legs shake as he reaches the peak of his orgasm, and Alaska begins to shake as well as he nears his own orgasm. He pumps his hot, sticky semen into Texas, making Texas moan and shudder. They finally separate, both breathing heavily, still shaking a little from the aftereffects.

They get cleaned up and changed into some nightclothes. They walk to the garage, where Alaska stayed, and Alaska pulls Texas into bed with him. "Had fun?" Alaska asks, smiling. "I know I did." Texas chuckles and nods, saying, "Best night of my life." "I love you, Texas, I really do." Alaska kisses the top of the Texan's head. "Love you too, Laskie," Texas responds, curling in close to Alaska. They fall asleep in the bed together, sleeping peacefully and happily.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This was longer than I expected. Word count: 1247 words.

#wttt #wttsh #wttt texas #wttsh texas #wttt alaska #wttsh alaska #smut #TexLaska #texas/alaska #fanfiction

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drabblesandimagines · 2 years ago

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Driver

Pairings: Kazuki x reader Warnings - car crash, explosions, implied death Word count: 4,411 For an anon request. Please do keep sending in requests - love the inspiration!

You enter the café – shoving the door open with a little more force than is strictly necessary. Kyu raises an eyebrow at you, but continues his polishing. You glance around to find the establishment empty – not unusual for the time of day – and take a seat at the bar. Once you’re settled, you remove the USB stick he’d given you last night and place it down on the counter, sliding it over to him.

“Nuh-uh, Kyu. You’ve got to have something better than this for me.”

“Sorry?” He scoffs. “Didn’t think your current situation allowed you to be so picky.”

That stings. You’ve been out of work for a little bit, courtesy of a broken wrist slipping on the ice in the winter. You’ve been out of the cast for just over a month now and the limb’s finally back to its normal level of flexibility. Your savings account has taken quite the hit due to being out of work for so long and Kyu is somehow aware. Figures.

“Rude.”

“That’s all I have for you – take it or leave it. I don’t care either way.”

You sigh, looking at the USB stick. It’s not so much the job that’s the issue, it’s the people it’s with. It’s always clear when someone in the Organization is starting to get sloppy and you’d seen the articles in the papers whilst you were at home, losing your mind. It only took a tiny amount of asking around to find out who was acting the clowns – Kazuki Kurusu and Rei Suwa.

Everything they’d done recently seemed to draw publicity and was a little less subtle than things usually were - a Christmas party with literally hundreds of witnesses had been the most publicized. You preferred under the radar jobs as much as possible and you had pride on how you handled your job. Your father had been a mechanic with a shady side career. He’d taught you how to drive and how to hot-wire all manners of vehicles since you were 12 years old and you’d helped him in his endeavors right up until his death. When you found yourself facing homelessness at 17, you’d found yourself with Kyu as a contact.

“They’ve just been so… flashy.”

Kyu smirks – he’d also used the word in reference to the two. “And that’s why I’ve partnered you up. You’ve been out of work for a while and after an injury, we need a skill check. Make those two look good and you’ll be back in the good books.” He slides you across an espresso you hadn’t noticed he was making. “On the house.”

“You’re not going to sweeten me up with free coffee.”

“As I said, take it or leave it. I don’t care. I can get another driver to take it, but you’re not getting any other work until they’re happy that you’ll still up to scratch.”

You bristle at that. Up to scratch?

You down the espresso in one and snatch back the USB stick as you leave.

You sigh, before opening up a new email and pasting in the email address from the USB stick.

Hey. Kyu’s referred me over as a driver. When and where can we meet to discuss?

You heat up some leftovers and settle on the couch in front of some mindless TV. An hour or so later, your burner phone dings with a reply.

Great! Can you meet at the attached at 11am tomorrow?

Attached is an address. You search it via the maps app, surprised when it seems to be a residential address rather than an office or a warehouse where your usual briefings took place, but then granted it’s the boss’ son you’ll be dealing with, perhaps they’re comfortable doing things there.

See you then.

It’s a nice morning as you make your way to the address. You’re dressed pretty casual – black boots, black skirt and tights, white t-shirt and a black denim jacket with your hair down loose. It’s a huge apartment complex by the river-side, much more aesthetic than your dinghy box-room apartment downtown. You press the button for the elevator and ascend to the top floor, head towards the numbered door as directed and ring the doorbell, looking around as you wait.

The door opens – a handsome blonde man in a blue t-shirt, a pink shirt, cargo shorts and an apron with a cartoon shark on it greets you. He’s not who you’d immediately picture as an assassin and you wonder if you’ve possibly misread the address.

He stares at you for what seems an eternity.

“Diesel?” You sigh. It was a dumb nickname from your teens and it had stuck. You were pretty sure there were those in the Organization who knew your real name – Kyu did for sure but knew better than to use it – so most people knew you as that.

“Mm-hm.” You nod.

“I’m Kazuki, come on in.” He widens the door and steps back, allowing you entry. You step in but as Kazuki shuts the door, a force slams you into the wall, twisting your arm behind your back.

“Are you armed?” A voice hisses in your ear.

You stomp on your assailant’s foot firmly, thankful you still had your boots so you can really aim for the toes. Their grip stays firm though you’re sure it must’ve hurt.

“Rei!” The blonde protests. “Get off her.”

“I said, are you armed?”

“No!” You mumble into the wall. A hand starts patting down your sides to double-check before you’re finally released. You scowl at the dark-haired man – this must be the Suwa heir. His hair is long and shaggy and he looks like he could do with a few good meals and a week’s sleep.

“What the hell? Is that how you treat all your guests?”

“I’m sorry about Rei, there was a better way to do that. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Your arm smarts but you’re not going to give him any satisfaction. “Can we get down to business already? I don’t have all day.”

“Please – follow me!” Kazuki starts heading further into the apartment and you follow, aware that Rei is behind you – probably to make sure you’re not about to pull something.

You’re led to a kitchen table where there’s a laptop and folder waiting. You’re surprised to see a child’s seat there too. Rei sees you staring as you take the seat next to it, but you won’t ask. It’s a job. There’s no need for pleasantries.

“So…” Kazuki slides over a manilla folder to you. “This is our hit.” You flip it open and are greeted by a surveillance photo of a young man, drinking and smoking at what appears to be a casino. Seems like he’s irritated someone enough to be removed from the picture.

“Uh-huh, and where do you picture me in this scheme?”

“Well, intel suggests the perfect time to hit him is two days away. He’s due to be heading into the country for a week. We’re trying to be more subtle” – it’s hard not to notice the side-eye he gives to his partner. “so my thought was to run him off the road, make it look like an accident.” He opens up his laptop and spins it round, showing you a route. “There’s a section of the road along the cliff here. He’s known for his love of fast cars and speeding, so it could be quite subtle.”

“Can you not run him off the road, blondie?” You ask the obvious question.

He raises his eye at your choice of nickname but doesn’t comment. “I’m not so confident in my driving skills in that type of terrain. Worried I might drive off the cliff myself, but I’m reluctant for an all guns blazing approach.”

“Mm.” You agree. “Do you have in here what he drives?”

Kazuki slides the folder back over to himself momentarily, scanning the documents before he finds what he’s looking for. “There.” He flips it back around and taps.

You recognize the model. “Ooft, fancy. That’s high spec and is pretty speedy. You’ll need something that can keep pace, but heavy enough to survive the impact without the risk of us getting injured too.”

“Do you have anything?” Rei asks.

You sigh. “Nah, not to hand. I usually jack a car for the job, but I don’t think I’m going to find something suitable on the streets for this.” You drum your fingers on the table, thinking for a moment. “Can I look something up on your computer real quick?”

Kazuki nods and pushes it forward. You open up a new tab and search – finding what you’re looking for with ease. You swing it back round. “This could be the solution though.”

“A dealership?” He questions.

“An exclusive dealership. They’re showcasing some army models there at the moment on the sly. The specs are intense and it’s a solid body – it should keep up with his car no problem.”

“How are you going to steal a car from there?” Kazuki questions. “Let alone one that’s not for the public to purchase.”

You twirl your hair between your fingers. “I have an idea. But first, do you have a really outlandish suit?”

Kazuki grins.

It’s the day of the hit. You wanted to be at the dealership as soon as it opened, but Kazuki said they weren’t available until 9am due to ‘prior commitments.’ Fine – they were technically the lead on this after all. You’re waiting down in their car park, leaning against the limo your hook-up had provided. You did each other favours all the time – getting cars in for their elusive clients and in turn they sourced you cars if you needed cover. It’s bright white, leather seats, shiny rims – it screams more money than sense.

Thankfully, their car park has remained quiet whilst you’ve been waiting for them to join you. The elevator dings and you see the two exit, dressed exactly as ordered. Kazuki is in a bright red suit, cravat and all, sunglasses on and looks the real deal. Rei is dressed in a more simple black suit – well-fitted but not screaming ‘look at me’.

Kazuki whistles at your attire as they approach, his eyes going down your body before he stops at your feet. “I don’t think the trainers quite go with the look, Diesel.”

“You try driving in stilettos, then we’ll talk.” You’re wearing a tight black cocktail dress, heavily applied make-up with bright pink lipstick, your hair is in soft curls and on your feet are comfy black and white trainers. You head to the back of the limo and open up the trunk and sit down, removing your trainers and removing a pair of high heel shoes to put on. Rei and Kazuki join you and place their bags in the trunk before you pass Rei a chauffeur’s hat. “To complete your look.”

“Why am I the chauffer again?” He mumbles.

“Sorry, you don’t just scream rich asshole to me as much as blondie does right now.” You wink, getting to your feet before retrieving a small clutch bag. “I mean, look at him.”

“You do know this is my own suit, right?” Kazuki raises an eyebrow.

“And I stand by it. We ready?” You slam the trunk shut and chuck Rei the keys.

Rei sighs. “Let’s get this part over with.” He goes to open the driver’s door when you clear your throat loudly.

“Baby, where did you get this one from?” You stomp your foot as you ask in a whiny voice. “He’s not even going to open the door for me and I just had my nails done. Tell me, do these look like the nails of someone who does manual labour?”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Kazuki joins in, sliding an arm around your waist. “He’ll learn. Ahem.” He looks pointedly at Rei.

Rei stares for a moment at the pair of you in disbelief, before scowling even more and opening the door for you. “After you, ma’am.”

“Much better.” You smirk and slide into the back of the limo, Kazuki following after. Rei slams the door shut a little heavy, but you’ll give him a pass. You’d left the partition between the driver and passenger areas down so you watch him get situated before he starts the engine and begins the drive to the dealership.

You open your clutch, pulling out a spray bottle. You spray it into your mouth and wince at the taste, before you liberally spray yourself and then Kazuki.

“What is that?” He flinches back from your assault.

“Vodka. They need to think we’re wasted. Open your mouth.” You order and he reluctantly opens, also wincing when it hits the back of his throat.

“What is that – paint stripper?”

“It was the most potent stuff I had in the cupboard.” You shrug, putting it back in your clutch.

“Potent’s the word for it. Ugh.” Kazuki groans.

“Tell us when we’re a few minutes out, okay?” You direct towards Rei.

He grunts in response.

The dealership is about 20 minutes away and you’re not one for idle chit-chat so the ride passes in relative silence until Rei lets you know you’re four minutes away.

“And we all remember the plan and back-up plan?”

“Yes,” Kazuki and Rei chorus.

“Good.” You press the button on the divider between the front and back and it slides up, obscuring Rei’s view before you grab Kazuki by his ascot and push him down on the seats and straddle him. He looks alarmed for a moment – had he forgotten this bit? But then he pulls you down and starts to kiss your neck, moving up to your jaw and then, finally, your lips.

You bite gently at his lip in response and he moans, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth. He feels good. You run your hands through his hair, ruffling it up, before your fingers work on the first couple of his shirt buttons and you slip a hand against his muscular chest.

One of his hands is now in your hair, the other on your ass, your dress riding up. Kazuki’s a surprisingly good kisser and it’s getting a little heavier than you intended, but, hey, you’re not complaining…

Suddenly, the door is opened and Kazuki’s head falls out, breathless and his mouth smudged with your pink lipstick. Rei has the usual expressionless look upon his face, but the dealership associate besides him looks quite shell-shocked by the scene they seem to have interrupted.

“Apologies, sir,” Rei breaks the silence, “but we’ve arrived.”

You giggle, crawling back off Kazuki’s chest and allowing him to sit up. He nods to Rei before stumbling out the car. You see the associate’s nose twitch at the vodka cologne you’d concocted – perfect.

Kazuki offers his hand back to you and you take it, stepping out the car with a little more grace – or as much as you can when your dress is riding up dangerously high. You wink at the associate as you shimmy it down and he looks flustered before attempting to compose himself.

“Good morning, it is a great honor to have you here.” He bows. “What can I help you with today?”

“Well, baby said he’s gonna buy me a car!” You pull at Kazuki’s arm. “I crashed the last one but I promise to be much more careful this time.”

“Anything for my honey,” Kazuki drawls back.

“I want a big one.”

“I’m sure we can find something suitable for the lady’s tastes, sir, if you’d follow me.” He gestures towards the showroom.

“Great. We’ll call for you when we’re ready.” Kazuki says to Rei.

“Very good, sir.” Rei nods, before shutting the passenger door and heading back to the driver’s seat. You lean heavily on Kazuki’s arm as the associate leads you into the showroom, leading you to a plush sofa surrounded by outrageously expensive cars. There’s a table covered with brochures and he makes you both a coffee while he encourages you to pursue the catalogues.

As he returns, you make a show of haphazardly flicking through the pages and pouting. “No, all these cars suck. I thought you said this place was exclusive, baby.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

“I want something big, powerful and indestructable...” You shift your legs on the sofa, aware that your dress is riding up again from the associate’s flush face.

“Don’t you have anything better? Price is no barrier for my darling girl.” Kazuki directs at the associate.

“Er, well, we do have an exclusive just arrived, for certain clientele…” Kazuki glares at him. “I can show you, if you’re interested. It’s, er…” He looks around but there’s no-one else in the show room. “..army spec.”

“I wanna see!” You demand.

“And you will, sweetheart,” Kazuki squeezes your thigh. “Show us.”

“Okay. This way, please.” He gets to his feet and leads you out the back, picking up a key on the way from a lockbox behind the desk. In the back there’s a non-descript car – much like a jeep.

“Now, I know it doesn’t look much, but that’s the beauty of it. It’s fast and strong – bullet-proof, even…”

“Bullet-proof, baby!” You tug at Kazuki’s arm. “Surely that means I can’t wreck it. I wanna sit in the front.”

“You heard the lady.” Kazuki directs to the associate, snapping his fingers. The man fumbles with the keys and you hear it unlock. You clap your hands giddily and open the door before clambering up. You’re sure you flash both Kazuki and the associate as you situate yourself in the steering wheel, chucking your clutch bag on the passenger seat.

“How does it feel, sweetheart?”

“So good, baby. I love it. Give me the keys.” You hold your hand expectantly out to the associate.

“I… I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t…” He sounds flustered. “We don’t permit test drives when, er, people have been drinking.”

“Oh…” You frown. “Fine. But I still want it! Baby, I can have it, right? You’ll buy it for me? I really want this one.”

“Okay, okay, anything for you.” He turns back to the associate. “Can you tell me more about the specs? I want my darling safe as possible.”

You use the distraction to shut the driver’s door. The associate gives you a look but with the keys firmly in hand, he knows you’re not off anywhere soon. Kazuki points towards the back rims, moving them out of eyesight of you for a few moments. You remove the stilettos, throwing them into the passenger footwell and pick up your clutch bag. Opening it, you remove a screwdriver and pliers and pop open the electronics console under the steering wheel, disabling the alarm before it can even beep. Kazuki and the associate are still chatting as you work on setting it for the hot-wire. It’s a little difficult in newer cars as they’re always improving the technology but with army specs, you know they don’t go as hard on the security - it wouldn’t be ideal to strand your soldiers if they lost their car keys – so you’re pretty confident when you put twist the two wires you’ve cut together the engine will roar to life.

You lean over and open the passenger door. “Baby, come sit with me! I’m lonely…”

Kazuki nods. “Can you go and get things organised for the wire transfer? I can’t keep my girl waiting.” The associate nods and heads back towards the office.

Kazuki gets in and once the associate disappears from view, he clicks in his seatbelt. You follow suit before feeling under the steering wheel and twisting the wires together. The engine starts to your delight and without hesitation, you accelerate furiously into the gates – the metal crumpling in the vehicle’s path.

“They weren’t lying, this thing is strong.”

In the rear-view mirror, you see the associate run out of the office, stunned.

Rei is waiting in the limousine at the rendezvous point – a plot of land near the hit’s house, making sure he didn’t head up into the country earlier than they’d been informed. As you park the beast of a car, you turn to the blonde.

“Can you grab my trainers out the limo?”

Kazuki nods and hops out to greet Rei, before retrieving your shoes. He brings them over to the driver’s side as you open the door and he presents them to you with a flourish.

“Your slippers, Cinderella.”

“Thank you, my prince,” you winked and put them on quickly before jumping down. “Any movement?”

“No, he’s still there.”

“Great.” You dug around your clutch bag again for the screwdriver before setting to work on removing the registration plates on the stolen car. The two assassins are having a hushed conversation as you work but you catch an odd word here and there – one that sounds like daycare? - but, honestly, you couldn’t care less and concentrate on your work. After the plates are off, you pick up the jerrycan you’d filled earlier that morning. You didn’t know exactly how much it would have in the tank at the dealership. It wouldn’t be wise to steal the thing and then stop for gas.

Kazuki slipped into the back of the limo with his duffel bag and emerged in a jumper and jean combo as Rei packed the plates into the back of the car. The plan was to ditch them in the river later. After you’d sorted the car, you dug out a baggy jumper to throw over the dress. It was still probably too short but at least you looked more casual in the jumper and trainers than you had just stumbled out of the nightclub. Checking the trunk was now empty, you shut it and left the keys behind the sun visor – your friend would be retrieving it later this afternoon.

The three of you sat in the car. Kazuki in the front seat with you and Rei in the back. You drummed your fingers on the steering wheel as Kazuki kept an eye on the front of the hit’s house with binoculars.

“We’re on.” He commented, as he caught sight of the target heading towards a very expensive-looking sports car. “Ready?”

“Always, blondie.” You winked, turning on the engine. You watched as the man reversed out of the driveway and headed towards the expressway, before you followed at distance. You weaved in and out of traffic easily, keeping him in sight the entire time.

“He’s getting a bit far away, isn’t he?” Kazuki questioned.

“Oh, no!” You replied sarcastically, maintaining your speed. “Sorry, I thought you hired me to drive. Wanna switch?” That shut him up pretty quick.

After about half an hour, the traffic had thinned out as you hit the coastal path. The target took advantage of the empty roads to really put his foot down and you followed suit. The car was heavy all right but the engine really packed a punch and it was super responsive to every steering tweak you made. You were near the suggested spot – a notorious point where people had driven off the road due reckless speed and the way the road zig-zagged – not a good combination but perfect for your intentions. You’d slowly been catching up with him and it became clear he’d noticed as when you were about a car length’s behind the bastard brake-checked. You weren’t a novice behind the wheel though and it gave you the perfect opportunity to move over into the other lane – thankfully clear of opposing traffic. As you began to become parallel with the target, you leaned over, “Blondie, might wanna hop in the back now and go behind the driver’s seat with Rei.”

He nods, unclipping his seat belt and climbs into the back seat. You caught Rei’s eyes in the rear-view mirror as he did so, who nods and withdraws his gun. You’d agreed the other day that if things did go well and truly south and the target pulled a weapon on you that Rei would intervene.

You look through the passenger window and see the man in question. He’s laughing, enjoying the race, it seems. Probably thinks your car is too chunky to match his. Too bad. You jerk the steering wheel to the left and the two collide, sending his vehicle bouncing off to the dirt on the side of the road. His carefree face turns to one of confusion, then panic as he struggles to control the machine as he tries to steer back to the tarmac. He then tries to brake but you match the speed perfectly, ramming him in the side again. His car begins to spin out of control, you ease off your acceleration as it rotates back into the road, before you hit the gas again and get alongside him, giving one last hard shunt and the car goes spinning off the edge, down into the chasm below. You slam on the brakes and yank up the handbrake, bringing the car to a complete stop without losing control. As you go to exit the car, a huge fireball erupts from below the cliff in a flash, before settling back down. The three of you exit and look down to find nothing but flames.

“Well, I’d call that a success.”

“Mm.” Rei nods.

Suddenly, you find yourself yanked up off the ground and you’re being crushed in Kazuki’s arms.

“Blondie!” You protest, as his embrace threatens to squeeze the air out of your lungs.

“I’m sorry, it’s just been so long since one of my plans has gone the right way!”

“Gee, thanks.” You retort as he puts you down, sheepishly. “So glad you believed in me.”

You turn back to get in the car, missing when Kazuki and Rei share a knowing look. Rei beats you to the driver’s seat, cutting in front of you. “I’m driving.”

“Uh, excuse me?” You frown, but the blonde man takes your hand, tugging you towards the back seat.

“I thought we could go over part one on the plan again, baby,” Kazuki smirks. “Rei drives and…”

“Oh.” You catch on and hop up into the back seat, sliding in so he can follow you. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to practice some more, in case there’s a next time.”

“Yeah, next time.” Kazuki agrees, before crushing his lips into yours.

Rei wishes this car had a partition.

#ghostdogwrites #buddy daddies fanfic #kazuki kurusu #kazuki x reader #kazuki x you #reader requests #suwa rei #rei suwa #buddy daddies #buddy daddies x reader

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rosewriteroyal · 5 months ago

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Rebellion

Part 1: The mysterious Girl

Dann x Fem Reader Apocalypse AU

Warnings: Blood/Gore, Swearing

Synopsis: Its been 5 years since the Virus broke out and K.D took controling the investigation into the cure. The land was a desert, nature has taken over, the safe houses now the only havens around and they are hard to gain residence two. On a mini run, Dann, Louis and Mujin bump into a mysterious girl in a mall, blood running down her arm

They thought they found the cure, the cure to a mysterious disease that's source was never found. Governments all come together to wonder how to solve the issue, but it was too late

This disease was a zombie virus, incurable. Slowly, the reports increased, counting every walker that appeared, country populations being whipped out in seconds.

It had been 5 years since the outbreak. The organisation K.D was formed, they tried everything to make a cure, worked with governments, their option was to drop bombs on large areas of infected, this just killed and destroyed cities and populations of non infected. So they moved to science, trying to find any way humans can be immune to the disease at hand.

CRACK! The rubble and debris of the old mall sounded under the heavy boots of someone. It was silent, very silent, unlike what it would have been 5 years ago before the virus. Kids, teens, and adults would be talking and screaming, the sounds of radio playing the new hit song would be blurring from the speakers, now it's decimated, left to nature.

"Be careful!” A voice sounded behind

"I will” another voice replied, the leader Dann. He had taken 3 of his group on a scavenge to find supplies, not knowing how long it would be until they found another mall or shop around.

"I wonder if there's any walkers in here. I'd hate that” another voice said, hiding behind the broader one. Mujin and Louis, they grew up together, attached at the hip. Where one goes the other goes, Louis volunteered to join Dann on this adventure, Mujin went because of that. A lot of people wonder how the guy has survived just being a leech of Louis.

They slowly walked deeper into the mall, the ropes and wires from the once working lights, ends, and exposed copper wire hung dangerously towards the ground. They spotted an old pharmacy, this is what they needed. They had joined a safe house a few months ago, and one of the children has fallen ill, luckily not by the disease but by a cold that has turned to pneumonia.

"Right, let's see if we can find any medicine and also food and water” Dann whispered as he walked through the old entrance and up towards the old medicine isle, while Louis and Mujin walked towards the little shop situated next door, finding anything food and water since the next large outing won't be until a couple weeks later.

Any noise would echo the halls and that's when they heard the sound of foots steps, running, ever step louder than the first, it was human for sure as walkers are slow, they hobble towards you in packs but this was a single person. Drawing his gun, Dann stopped packing his bag with medicine and creeper to the entrance, gun loaded and ready to shoot. As soon as the footsteps got closer, he pointed the gun out…

He stopped. It was a girl around his age. She panted as she held her arm, wincing a few times. She looked up at the Dann

"Sorry if I scared you. May the entire group is dead because of some walkers, Im lucky, I guess” Chuckling to herself as she tried to slow her breathing, Dann looked at her arm, worried at the condition. Not everyone had water, clean water to disinfect wounds

"Your arm, let me look” Dann said softly, and the girl backed away

"I wouldn't” the girl said

"Why. Where you bitten” Dann said, sliding the gun out his pocket again

"...” The girl looked down, Dann took it as a yes and pointed the gun back to her, right in the middle of her forehead

"When did it happen” Dann asked. He didn't want to kill her, but after watching his mother and brother turn, he knew it was for the best

"This one was recently, maybe about a couple of minutes ago. My first one was 5 years ago and see still kicking around” Dann eyes widened. She had been bitten not once but twice and hasn't changed

"What are you? No one is immune. That's what K.D. said” The girl looked up

"I don't know what's wrong, i think I'm immune…My name is Y/N, by the way” She smiled at him, and Dann pulled the gun down

"I'm Dann. Let me bandage that bite up and clean it. I'll take you back to the safe house and we can talk more there” He stepped closer and grabbed her non bleeding arm dragging her towards the medicine isle he was just in, he saw Mujin and Louis waiting

"Who’s that? Your secret Girlfriend, ah man I knew you could do it” Louis hatred his back “I'm Louis, this us my partner in crime as we call it Mujin” He smiled and looked down eyes widening on fear “SHE'S BEEN BITTEN”

"Guys, guys. It's okay, she might be immune” Dann said, and Mujin looked puzzled

"Immune, but that's not possible” he said, digging in his bag for bandages and handing them to Dann as he sat Y/N on a chair, cleaning and dressing the bite

"So what we going to do with her” Mujin asked

"Take her back to the safe house, have Ivan fully dress the wound and try and figure out how the fucking hell she's immune and why K.D lied all these years” Dann explained as he helped Y/N stand up, picking up his bag with the medicine and handing some to Y/N “Painkillers”

"Thank you Dann” Y/N took two of the pills and swallowed them, following the three strangers out the mall into the sunlight

"So, how you end up in the mall” Louis asked as he struck up a conversation for the long walk ahead

"I was with my group. There were 5 of us, all friends and my sister. We were looking for supplies to last us a couple days, when we were attacked by the Walkers, i only survived with a bite and a few scratches” Y/N smiled a bit thinking back to the group, all of the girls where like sisters, it's was said but they had good times.

"We never got your name” Mujin said

"Y/N”

"That’s really pretty” Louis commented and Y/N smiled.

It was a long journey back to the safe house but a safe one, it would be about a day to walk but they area was cleared so no Walkers would be able to attack unless they broke through the fencing, the tall buildings, the green ivy and other weeds it was pretty, something out of a apocalypse film but sadly it was reality, the world was truly gone and only a few people left, the end of humanity who knew it would be pretty.

#kingdomkpop #kingdom #kingdom dann #kingdom mujin #kingdom louis #Kingdom x reader #Dann x reader #night air network

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bakageta · 1 year ago

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Sliding in under the wire, here's my final fic for the AU roulette! This one is a Vampire AU. I went with emotional vampirisim, because there's already enough threats of cannibalism in canon. I have vague ideas about how things happen differently in this AU and I might end up writing more for it later. @kitausuret, I wrote about ya boi again!

Their patrol was wrapping up when Venom caught the scent of the most deliciously complex and tangled depression. It was the kind of deep darkness that ate people up. The kind of thing they tried to save people from, at least for a little while. It made their mouth water.

Whoever gave off that intangible aroma was just below them, at street level, huddled in a bus shelter. Eddie thought it was odd. The bus had pulled away from that stop a minute ago at most, surely the person hadn’t just missed it? The flavor profile they detected was all wrong for that. More bitter and resentful than angry and frustrated.

Venom slipped to the ground in a nearby alleyway, and Eddie Brock approached the bus shelter. By the time he reached cover he was damp from the misting drizzle that hadn’t affected him at all as Venom.

“Hell. Did I just miss the bus?” Eddie asked as he shook himself off as much as he could without getting the other person wet. As best he could, Eddie put on the persona of an inoffensive every guy who just happened to be more than 6 feet tall and built like a brick shithouse.

"Yeah." The person was bulky, strawberry blonde, and resigned to conversation. He was also, Eddie noted belatedly, sitting in a wheelchair and not on the shelter's bench. The man would probably be more wary, he assumed, which would make it harder to lull him.

"You miss it too?"

The man snorted. "The wheelchair lift was busted."

"That’s awful." Eddie sat in the middle of the three seat bench and draped his arms across the back rest. His left hand was as close to the other man as he could get while not looking like anything more than a big guy taking up space. Hopefully his other would be able to reach.

"It's life." The man shrugged.

"Doesn't mean it's okay." Eddie gestured widely with his far hand. “But it’s not really something guys like us can solve on our own.” For a moment, Eddie thought about mentioning the work he did at the F.E.A.S.T. center before thinking better of it. It would definitely come across as patronizing. “I’m Eddie.”

“Flash,” the man said, and his challenging stare made Eddie realize that Flash was probably his name.

“Flash,” Eddie confirmed. Some of the tightness at the corners of Flash’s eyes relaxed. “Do you mind if I practice a monologue? I’m working on my delivery for a community play.”

“Sure, better than awkward silence or small talk.” Flash shrugged.

"True." Eddie slid into the monologue, one he was actually working on, and built slowly in dramatics. Less than a minute in, Flash was being lulled. It seemed he had assumed wrongly. Eddie hadn't even needed to draw on the harmonics of Venom’s voice to get him into the distracted state of mind that would let them feed on his emotions without Flash noticing what, exactly, they were doing.

His other reached out from Eddie’s hand and bridged the gap between them. The moment dark alien flesh touched Flash, his emotions opened to them completely. His depression was a wide bowl of thick, cold soup before them. It was refreshingly tangy and sour, different than their usual fare of criminal terror, innocent discomfort, and the sincere gratitude of those Eddie helped. They swallowed saliva, as Eddie’s body reacted physically to the psychic meal in front of them.

Wildly, Eddie thought that if more people were like Flash then he wouldn't need his other to sate the hunger their symbiosis had burdened him with. The symbiote prickled complex guilt-apology-resentment-fear at him and he apologized to it as it started lapping up Flash’s depression. Chunks of the man's anger, hate, and bitterness caught on their currently metaphorical teeth like the meat and vegetables of a stew.

Tangy fear ran down their throat. Flash had somehow woken up.

"Stuh– stop!"

They did. Eddie went so far as to move to the furthest corner of the bench to his symbiote’s disgruntlement. That had never happened to Eddie in the time he’d been with his other. Flash wasn’t quite backed into the corner opposite him, but his hands were poised over the wheels of his chair ready to charge past Eddie.

"What the hell was that?"

Eddie also wanted to know. Flash should have been out for as long as they needed him to be while they ate his depression.

Good match. The symbiote communicated with rare words. Compatible. Want. Like. Love?

Darling? Eddie prompted. Emotions ebbed into his mind: they were his other's from when it first tasted him. It felt the same way now. Apparently the symbiote who'd turned him into an emotional vampire had a type.

It squirmed but made no denials.

"–you okay?" Flash had rolled closer to them for some unknown reason. "I just wanna know what you did, I feel… not better. But less like shit."

"I– we–" Eddie raised his left hand still covered in the symbiote's writhing feeding tentacles. It took the opportunity to wave at Flash with several. "We were eating your depression. It's not permanent. It'll be back, but it's easier to do something about it when you're not drowning."

"Can it be permanent?" Flash had looked away from them, up the street where neon lights blinked in the wet night. There were a few shops. A few bars, too.

"Not." Eddie swallowed roughly "Not if you want to keep feeling other things."

"That sucks."

"Yeah."

The next bus was still at least five minutes out, but it wasn't like Eddie and his other needed to wait for it. He turned to leave, symbiote resisting his motion like cold molasses in his muscles, when Flash called out, “You aren’t waiting for the bus?”

“No.” Then, with a nudge from the symbiote, Eddie rolled his eyes and his shoulders and Venom stepped into the rain. “We have other ways of getting home.”

Flash’s eyes widened, almost like he recognized them. Surprise and curiosity radiated from him. It wasn’t the reaction Eddie had expected. The symbiote, however, was smug and pleased at being proven right.

“If you’re not waiting for the bus then what about the play? Is that real?”

“It is.” They confirmed.

“When is it?” Flash rolled to the edge of the bus shelter. “I need to get out of the house more anyway.”

“Next Saturday, at the F.E.A.S.T. Center gymnasium. The doors open at six pm, if we remember correctly.”

“I’ll see you there, then,” Flash said with a grin. “We will look forward to it.” Venom said as they slung up and away, Flash’s grin mirrored on their own face.

#long post #my writing #venom #eddie brock #venom symbiote #flash thompson #auroulette2023 #and now to work on more blue beetle fic

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bellshazes · 2 years ago

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do you think you could write a drabble set in the alternate dia universe that takes place in the eighties? :D

A modern but not contemporary au that mirrors 3L and HCS7 instead of LL as in Do It Again. (background here)

“Absolutely not,” Bdubs says, surveying the motley crew before him. Cleo has commandeered the driver’s seat of the Crastle, the door of the van hanging open for dramatic flare and because it only stays shut when it’s locked anyway. Her feet dangle out of the window, calves propped up on the doorframe and cushioned by her leg warmers. He’s supposed to be giving her a ride so she can instruct her fitness class.

Unfortunately, Etho is also leaning against the sliding back door, surely smirking under his gaiter even though it’s not even that cold out. “C’mon Bdubs, you’re already headed that direction. Cleo said it’d be fine.”

“I don’t even know how you stay alive, you freeloader,” Bdubs sniffs. “Cleo is welcome to drive the Crastle as they please but we have to draw the line somewhere. You are denied salvation in the Crastle.”

“Bdubs,” Cleo chides, her feet rolling from side to side. “It’s just one ride. He’s not going to move into your van.”

“Oh, he’ll move something into it alright!” Bdubs shouts, scrubbing one hand over his face.

Cleo’s threadbare composure finally breaks as they bring their feet down so they can hunch over in uncontrollable laughter. Etho makes a show of gently patting her on the back - as if he cares - and she waves him away. When she catches her breath again, they say, “You mean the lamp?”

“Of course I mean the freaking lamp!” It used to be a knock-off Christmas Story one that Etho had hid in Bdubs’ too dim college dorm, and which Bdubs had redecorated and schemed to make Etho take at the non-denominational white elephant game that year. It is falling apart, having been altered and fixed and damaged so many times over the years it’s almost unrecognizable, but as long as the wiring is recoverable and a bulb can be lit, they’re going to be passing it back and forth. And Bdubs hasn’t had to deal with it in over six months; he’s not about to start now.

“You can take shotgun,” Cleo says to Etho with all the grace she can muster while suppressing another fit of helpless giggling at the way Bdubs’ face ripens to a tomatoey red with fury that he’s being overruled. It almost works.

“I won’t even complain about how the seats are made for short people,” Etho says, clasping one hand over his heart in a picture of innocence while conspicuously hiding the other hand Bdubs knows has as many crossed fingers as he can manage between his back and the Crastle’s door.

The pager on his hip beeps, and he rips it out of its holder in consternation before he can respond to the obvious bait. He recognizes the number - it’s his pager number, which means he’s got a voicemail, which means it’s Scar. “Oh, this is just great. Is there a payphone around here? Cleo, the quarters are in the overhead compartment, can you - you know what I’m talking about, what am I saying -”

“I’ve got a landline you can use,” Etho says. If Bdubs didn’t know better he’d have said he batted his eyelashes when he said it, too.

“You? With the DIY TV receiver that only gets whatever channel Seinfeld airs on or midnight cooking infomercials?”

“Impulse does,” he clarifies. “Part of this stuff is for him. Besides, I’ve been meaning to catch up with Scar. I think I have some information he wants.”

“Come on,” Cleo says, and finally he crumbles. “It’s almost time for my class and you promised you’d help me out.”

“Hell’s blazes, fine! Fine, you win, I suck, Cleo’s right and I’m wrong and we’re all gonna have a great time. You better pony up for gas though, I’m not kidding about the freeloader thing. And if you don’t get your stuff packed in the back in the next sixty seconds I’m leaving whatever’s left behind.”

“Don’t even worry about me, buddy,” Etho says, knocking elbows with Cleo as he walks to the passenger side and she clambers out of the driver’s side to lounge in the middle row instead. “Cleo helped me load it up earlier when we were waiting for you to show up.”

He nearly bites through his tongue but manages not to say any of the uncharitable thoughts he has about that when he’s climbing into the driver’s seat and turning on the car. He does glare at Etho as he turns the key, and turns the key again, engine groaning as it struggles to start. Somehow Etho gets the message and starts stacking quarters into the overhead compartment one by one with painful deliberation, somehow emphasizing the way he has to bend and contort even though it's not that the van is small, the passenger seat controls are just broken and Etho could totally fix it himself it it bothered him that much.

“Don’t you start that,” Bdubs says with narrowed eyes as the Crastle finally rumbles to life. “You promised me.”

When he’s done with the quarters, Etho puts one slim finger over his nose and mouth and winks. Bdubs sighs and shoves his Dangerous cassette back in the player to cover up Cleo’s latest round of uncontrollable giggling and Etho’s radiating smugness. First to Cleo’s studio, then wherever Etho’s mystery landline is (did Impulse leave it at his shack, since he crashes there so much? Better not to ask), then to Scar, for better or worse. And Etho in tow for all of it.

He sighs and lets the music wash over him, briefly leaving the future behind. It is good to be useful to Cleo, and it’s nice enough out he doesn’t even have to hold the door shut as he drives, and Scar is his best client. Or business manager, or whatever - he’ll probably manage to get paid somehow today.

It almost makes up for finding that damn lamp tucked underneath the panel in the trunk three days later. Almost.

#peter writes #do it again au #clethubs #long post #this was SO FUN TO WRITE #the crastle is lovingly based on my own very first car (2001 ford windstar) w the drivers door that flew open on turns when too cold #and which mostly played a phantom of the opera cassette i inherited #instead of bdubs' mj one

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tea-and-spoons · 1 year ago

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What happens when... I get an EMG and nerve conduction study?

This post is a two-in-one, because an EMG and nerve conduction study are almost always done together. The EMG section comes with a serious trigger warning for needles, so the start and end of that section are clearly marked if you just want to read about nerve conduction studies.

Both of these tests are done to measure how well your nerves are working- specifically your peripheral nerves, which is everything but your brain and spinal cord. By measuring how those nerves send electrical signals through your muscles, the doctors can determine a lot more about the possible cause of any weakness, tingling, numbness, or pain you’re having. Don’t worry, your nerves always function using electricity, that’s not anything unusual!

Both of these tests are typically done by a doctor, often the same one who ordered it. The doctor may take measurements all the way up your arm/leg to your spine, meaning your upper back and/or butt might get poked and prodded too. If you wear a tank top or loose shorts, you might be allowed to stay in your clothes, but often you’ll have to wear a cloth gown instead.

A nerve conduction study is typically done first, and involves absolutely no needles! Before or during the test, they’ll take some measurements of your limbs, and use a marker or pen to draw some little dots and lines on you. They’re just marking reference points to be consistent with their testing. Next you’ll be connected to a few wires, using some combination of goopy stickers (like for a heart monitor) and wire loops that go around your fingers or toes. These all feed back into a machine that looks quite a bit like an old computer.

This part measures how quickly your nerves send signals by sending a quick pulse of electricity between the wires you’re attached to. If you’ve ever used a TENS unit or had iontophoresis done at physical therapy, it feels almost the same as that. Just a split second of tingling/zapping sensation that makes your muscles twitch. They’ll start pretty low (I barely felt the first ones) and turn it up until they get the measurement they need. For me, it was just unpleasant, but for some people it can be painful. It’ll take a few zaps for each spot they’re measuring (shouldn’t be more than 10) and then the wires get moved to the next spot. Even if you’re only getting one side tested, they may do a couple spots on the other side to compare.

***trigger warning for needles starts here****

EMG is short for electromyography. I had one doctor describe it as, “Instead of zapping you with electricity (like the nerve conduction study), you get to zap the machine!” What he meant was, instead of sending electricity through you like the nerve conduction study, the EMG measures the electricity your nerves are making on their own. Unfortunately, this is measured by sticking a needle in you- it’s between 1 and 3 inches long, but never goes all the way in. They choose the needle size based on how deep they need to go to get good test results in that spot. Some of that depends on your body shape, but it also depends on where particular muscles and nerves are inside you (it’s a little different for everyone!) The doctor pokes the needle perpendicular into a muscle, then slides it in a quick in-out motion a few times. So there’s a little pinch when it goes in, and then it might hurt when they move it up and down. I’ve had three EMGs, and one I barely felt, one was excruciating, and one was in the middle. So I think it depends on the doctor, your body, and the size of the muscle they’re measuring. For example, the needles in my hand hurt a lot. The one in my thigh was fine. While the needle is in there, they’ll ask you to make some small gentle movements (which will probably make the pain worse. Sorry.) Some of the spots might bleed a little when they pull the needle, and you’ll probably have some little bruises the next day, but the doctors do try to avoid sticking you where it will bleed a lot.

An interesting thing about this test is that it gives results by transforming the electrical signals from you into static noises. You’ll hear moderate volume staticky-crackling noises whenever you or the needle moves, which I think is equal parts cool and annoying.

****trigger warning for needles ends here****

It’s different for everyone, but you might be some level of sore after, ranging from “oh I have a tiny bruise” to “holy cow nerve pain I don’t want to move.” If you’re worried and/or prone to nerve and muscle pain, definitely ask if you’re allowed to premedicate!

Since it’s usually the doctor doing the test, you’ll probably be told basic results right away. Between the ouch of the test and the immediate results, it can be pretty draining so please take some time after to recharge if you can. 💙

#EMG #nerve conduction study #neurology #tw needles #chronic illness advice #disability advice #teaandspoons #chronic illness #disability

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waywardstanleys · 1 year ago

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The End Is A Lie

Part Six: A few restarts later our protagonist makes a choice

(part one — > [x], part two —> [x], part three —> [x] part four —> [x] part five —> [x]) GLaDOS stirs her dough in a cement mixer and tells Stanley that she will bake a chocolate cake. She decorates her festive table with garlands made of colorful wires. GLaDOS tells him tests will soon be over. She promises Stanley that he will be set free, but, first of all, there will be a big party. Isn't that great, right? He thinks they will have a great time. So he tries. A test subject #427 simply does what is expected of him. When Stanley finishes another test, he enters a round elevator and presses a button. He exits on the top floor and walks towards a large white door. He raises his hand, allowing a shiny panel to release a needle and draw a small amount of blood from his ring finger. Everything is normal, just as it should be.

"DNA verification is successful," a cool voice pronounces. The door opens and he enters the room. Colorful wires hang from the ceiling to the floor. Some of them slide onto him. Stanley pushes them away from his head and approaches a big square iron table. On its clean and polished surface sits a white plate with a cake resting on it. It is a big, magnificent cake, drizzled with chocolate syrup and adorned with exquisite canned cherries, drowning in a cloud of whipped cream and melted caramel. And, most importantly, it is a real fresh cake. Stanley picks up a sharp table knife lying next to a stack of paper napkins. His hands tremble slightly with excitement, so the first piece turns out a little uneven. He carefully transfers the slice of cake to a dessert plate, sits on a chair, then picks up a fork and gently spears a small cherry, but immediately stops, not bringing it to his mouth. His gaze shifts to the blinking eye of a video camera attached to the ceiling. GLaDOS says nothing. She remains silent even when he cuts the cake himself. But should she say anything? Isn't her voice just a pre-recorded message? Unfortunately, Stanley knew absolutely nothing about GLaDOS. He didn't even attempt to decipher the full meaning behind her ‘name’. The test subject #427 had never worked in the Test Department. Moreover, in reality, he wasn't even a test subject of this laboratory! But then why is he dressed in an orange jumpsuit, wearing strange boots around his feet, with a portal gun resting on his knees and holding a fork with a cherry plucked from the cake? "Hello, Stanley." "!!!" Startled, #427 jumps. The cherry impaled on the fork slips from his hand and falls to the ground. Automatically, Stanley leans under the table, picks it up, places it back onto the plate, leans back on the chair's backrest and begins scanning every inch of the ceiling with his gaze. "Yes yes, I am also glad that you can hear me again, Stanley," assures the Narrator. "I understand you might be surprised that I managed to break through here, but that's no reason to make such ugly faces at me... and why do you need a knife?" His voice sounds concerned. "I don't know what happened to you without me, but your mental state is definitelly off. Stanley, why... why are you trying to cut this iron table? Stop damaging the government’s property! Oh, so you are finished? I hope you have calmed down. Good, now slowly put the knife on the table, get up and leave this room, and I'll open the door... what? Oh, you want to try the cake? No you don’t! Absolutely don’t, Stanley. I assure you, this cake is fake. Take a closer look. See? It's made of..." "You shouldn't interfere," a female voice interrupts, rudely silencing the Narrator. "Disabling voice messages. Eighty-eight percent completed... pay no attention, test subject #427, it's -temporary technical glitches. Error. Don't try to hinder me. Changing password. Error. Enabling restricted use of system equipment. Critical error. Not bad, but futile. Let's see how you deal with this. Initiating a forced server disconnection..." The video camera rotates twice on its axis, emitting a tragic beep and shuts down. The door opens. "You managed to bypass my security?" GLaDOS asks with slight surprise. "But you couldn't. Exceeding authority. You have no right to connect to... Updated. Access granted for unrestricted use. Why? How did you do this? No! It can't be you! Cancel previous operation... Error. Requesting user statistics... Error. Excellent, whoever you are, you have achieved your goal. I'll have to listen to your stupid babbling. I hope you're satisfied now..." "Stanley! Hurry, run away from there while the door is open!" the Narrator shouts. #427 pushes the plate with his untouched piece of cake aside and gets up. "Where are you going? Don't leave. The party is just beginning," GLaDOS' voice is calm and cold, as if ice. "Don't listen to her, leave! You can't stay here, Stanley! Please, listen to me! We are friends, Stanley! You... you remember, right?.. I created you, gave you a name, wrote your Story... of course you must remember! I'm honestly trying to help you!.." "What?.. Am I your friend? Seriously? You only say that because you don't want to start the game all over again! Or not?.." #427 stops in front of the door. "Don't listen to him, stay here," GLaDOS insists gently. "You like the cake, don't you? I know. Stay and try it." "And you... you just enjoy conducting tests. Over and over again, until I get tired and drop dead somewhere. On one hand, jumping through portals is a bit more interesting than choosing office doors. But on the other hand, I don't really like lasers and traps..." #427 ponders. "NO!" the Narrator exclaims desperately. "Stanley, this will lead you to death! Believe me, she wants to get rid of you! I don't want to start all over again!!" "See! I knew it!.. Well, damn it, I'll decide for myself what to do!" Stay? Leave? This could be the most important choice, Stanley thought. He needs a moment to consider everything.

Meanwhile, the Narrator and GLaDOS begin to argue, interrupting each other and ending up as an incoherent stream of words. Stanley covers his ears with his hands, but it's useless; their voices sound loud and incredibly persistent, not giving him the slightest opportunity to calmly consider his choice. "Shut up!" he spits out loud with irritation. But the Narrator and GLaDOS ignore him, engrossed in their quarrel with each other.

It's unbearable.

Stanley feels like his head will explode if he spends another minute in this room, so he comes to the only decision; escaping from this couple as far as possible while they are occupied with their ‘dialogue’ and not paying attention to his actions.

Stanley grabs his portal gun and shoots a blue portal beyond the doorway and a red one into the nearest white wall. With his free hand, he inexplicably grabs his knife and, affectionately holding it close to his chest, jumps into the second portal.

#Stanley #the Narrator #GLaDOS #the end is a lie #drabble

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gnomeyflamingo · 2 years ago

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✮ Just another day... ✮

We return to find Atreo sleeping soundly. *Eerie sloshing style noises*

Atreo: *jumps awake* “What was that?”

Atreo: “AHH a MONSTER! Go away!”

Monster: “I wish I could little boy but the housing market is rough. I'm also going through an ugly divorce. Do you mind if I eat bits of your dead skin cells and hair? I’m starving.”

Atreo: "EW NO!"

*Has trauma bath*

Alejandro: “This is how you cook Acco. You handle your two knives simultaneously, chopping the watermelon with reckless abandon.”

Acco: “Wow!”

Alejandro: “And then you let the bowl of fruit salad slide down your arm, like this…”

Acco: “Teach me Papi!”

Brielle: “Show off."

Brielle comes home and receives amazing news; she has gotten promoted. She’s now a National Leader and all of her legacy goals have been completed, except for one! Brielle: “Woo I reached the top of my passionless, dead end job! I’m soaking in it, I have ARRIVED!”

Atreo: “Congrats on your promotion Mum. So my birthday is coming up and I was thinking…”

Brielle: “We’re not leaving Acco at home.”

Atreo: “Come on! It’s MY birthday, I should get to invite sims I actually like.”

Brielle: "He's your brother."

Atreo: "And?"

Brielle: “Atreo really hates Acco and I don’t know what to do about it. He’s the heir now, the battle is over. Your move.”

Alejandro: “We can't force anything. I mean Atreo's been calling me by my first name since he aged into a toddler. All we can hope for is a character arch."

In true Atherstone fashion, Acco brought Helmuth home from school and they’ve become best friends forever.

Helmuth: “And then when my teacher heard my name, she cried and hugged me, telling me to stay strong! I'm so changing my name!"

Acco: "Ooh let's come up with name ideas!"

Acco: “Dear diary, today I’ve become BFF’s with Helmuth. He's thinking of changing his name and we had a brainstorm session. He now wants to be known as Otto, after one of the cats on our lot.”

Atreo: "Another scout promotion for me! Making those garlic wreaths is paying off!"

Alejandro: “You can do this buddy. Draw those lines! You’re holding that crayon excellently.”

Atreo: “Thanks for the encouragement.”

Acco: “And then the tooth fairy-”

Atreo: “Shut up Acco, you're distracting me! I’m busy wiring this motherboard into my school project.”

Otto: “MURDER! HELLP! MURDERRRRRRR!”

Kelsy: “What was that about? A knife through my neck? Seriously?!”

Alejandro: “I told you to move.”

Kelsy: “How am I still alive?”

Alejandro: “I’m a really good cook.”

Kelsy: "Then FEED ME!"

Brielle's using her telescope for the first time, not realising I have WW installed.

Brielle: “Hehe I wonder what my neighbours are up to-OMW! Close the curtains! That’s not even the bedroom!”

As Brielle averts her eyes in embarrassment, the snow falls and Winterfest begins!

In the early morning…

Helicopter pilot: “The prisoner is loose and is throwing glitter and glue into my eyes! Where did she even get it from- she just jumped out- mayday, mayday, helicopter is going down-”

***Cool and dramatic explosion***

Keahola: “Must. Heal. From. Third Degree. Burns. And. Broken. Bones. Must. Be.... Nanny!”

*smoke and fire clears*

Keohola: “Hey that worked! My immense passion has healed my injuries. Great. I’m coming Atherstone boys. Nanny is back!”

(for app) >> Next Chapter >> Previous Page

(for browser) >> Next Chapter >> Previous Chapter

❧ Back to the Legacy Archive

#ALJAD #Just Another #Atherstone Legacy Gen1 #ts4 legacy #gnomey flamingo's legacy #simblr #ts4 simblr #sims 4 story

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caterjunes · 10 months ago

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ok! here she is!

some design notes: i had two main principles going in.

1. i knew i wanted the body to be a dark, polished wood - not lacquered or varnished, but that deep, smooth, soft glow. oiled and burnished. walnut is a nice color & hardness, and it's not like a tropical hardwood or something that would be SuS to acquire.

2. i absolutely did NOT want it to extend. it's just. listen. we all know how easily the sonic screwdriver lends itself to phallic imagery. i want to minimize that as much as possible while maintaining the overall look of, you know, a screwdriver.

so building off of those:

• dark wood goes GREAT with copper or brass hardware. if you heat up copper and then quench it, it turns beautiful rainbow-y colors, which might be cool as well. i'd need to see that up close to know.

• the extending seems, watsonian, to serve as some sort of frequency or settings refinement/adjustment. doylist, it lets the actor fiddle with the screwdriver so sonic-ing is a more active process. absent extendability, we need some other way to make those adjustments, and something else for the actor to fiddle with.

• i watch a lot of machining vids on youtube, and i like the idea of using dials like on a lathe carriage or mill table. having them be different scales or even different bases also makes me think of slide rules, which is i think an interesting connection. i drew mine in base 10 and base 3. they should probably be labeled in circular gallifreyan but that's a level of artistic detail that's beyond me lol

• the dials should probably be in contrasting metals as well, maybe one in brass the other in copper?

• these dials are turned by the raised knurled sections outside them. i loooooove knurling, it's a really good sensory experience for me. maybe one could be scalloped as well. they should be a tight sliding fit and stay where they are put - no spinning around all over the place

• i didn't draw this but you'd probably want to have some sort of marker/pointer line inlaid by the dials as well.

• i also added a third, smaller dial around the thumb button (maybe for fine-tuning? or presets?) and an index finger button as well, for additional ways to use it. i know with this sort of prop, actors usually work out a mental system for what setting "does" what action, and the more options the better

• one of the things that consistently bugs me about the sonic is that the doctor seems to get readings off of it, but it's not clear how - sometimes he holds it up to his ear, sometimes he just seems to Know what it's saying. i thought it'd be cool to put a small clock face/indicator dial on the butt cap with multiple hands & multiple concentric scales

• i like the look of knife handles with diagonal inserts in them, and many of them use bone, which polishes up to a really lovely glow. in order to help with grip/ergonomics, as well as to stop the sonic from rolling away willy-nilly, i have the insert extend into something like a fencing foil's pistol grip for the middle finger to catch on. i'd need to play around with how this actually feels in the hand to know if it works, but i think it's an interesting detail.

• the emitter i thought would be really nice if it were also a natural material, as well as something that was lustrous in and of itself, without the sonic being on. my first thought was mother-of-pearl, but i figured just a straight-up snail shell or whatever would be too delicate. however, you can get crushed mother-of-pearl to mix with resin for inlays, and i think that would be more than sturdy enough. just in case, i also put a "cage" around it out of stiff wire or thin tubing. idk that might be too cluttered (or get too easily bent out of shape itself actually)

• depending on how fancy/complicated we feel like getting with the electronics, it might be fun to have the light inside the emitter spin when active (or maybe that's what the index finger button does!). in which case you'd probably want 2 different colored LEDs, not just one white one (which is what i was thinking if non-spinning)

• doylist, i think you'd want the butt cap/bottom ferrule to unscrew so you could replace batteries. i put wrench flats on it to ensure you could really tighten it down, which also allows you to put a nice little taper in the tail of the handle, giving it more of an oval shape

• to get the dials on & access electronics, i think it probably should unscrew in the middle as well, underneath the dials. or maybe there are allen key bolts accessible once the batteries are removed...

• i have Thoughts about how to manufacture this to ensure everything lines up (especially when screw threads are involved that gets tough) but that's beyond what we're talking about here

• omg i almost forgot! the sonic often makes very bad misophonia whirring buzzing noises. this one makes a gentler hum :)

grayson & i have been rewatching doctor who and goddamn this show is legit good. we just got to moffat's run and i am Very nervous. but rtd's run is heartbreaking and funny and thought-provoking and beautiful and no wonder it's so popular

also we're designing our own sonic screwdrivers lol

#personal #doctor who #stuff i made #matty watches #thank u to every1 who expressed interest

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madcatdaderpydrawer-blog · 3 years ago

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Just a smorgedge bordge of the “Bonnie finds Sun and Moon and decides to help them post disassemble Vanny ending twin dads au” thing.

- Bonnie had been in the bowels of the Pizza plex for a while and probably either knows how to get out and doesn’t think it would be worth it to expose that he’s still alive after he was replaced, or doesn’t know and has been looking for so long that he just made a home down there.

- This changes of course when the new newer robots basically crash into his little man hut area. They are in horrible condition as is to be expected, so he has to do some repairs to make sure they actually function. Not to say they aren’t still horribly destroyed; They are, but Sun’s chest isn’t COMPLETELY torn open with his wires everywhere.

- Bonnie basically reacted as if they were his children, because really he is considered to be older then them. He saw them when they were first made, so he knows how.. chaotic Moon used to be. He met them around THAT age. (That’s also the same time period Moon asked Sun if he could eat a bowling ball, so it checks out). He found it funny how Moon is so sarcastic now too, and how much dad energy he contains. Sun is definitely more energetic then when they first met too.

- They both want to get back up the Pizza plex, which Bonnie replies saying that they can go back up but he’s staying there.

- Yeah they’re not going to let that slide. They just found out the friend they thought was dead wasn’t, and they basically pestered him into coming up with them.

- “I have literally already been replaced” “We’ll hide you in the storage room, that’s where we found Gregory!” “Who??”

- So they explained what happened, their little adventure with Gregory, (the many brushes with death-), and how they got damaged.

- It was... a lot to say the least. He was pretty surprised to see that Moon had gotten so close to Monty, due to the newly found dad energy. Not because of anything severe, but because snarky and easily angered don’t go well. But they were still friends, just the kind of friends that never stop making digs at each other and bringing up the past to embarrass the shit out of them. I 100% think that Monty didn’t decommission Bonnie.

- They finally managed to convince Bonnie to come with them when Sun brought up how much Freddy missed him (that gay motherfucker).

- With Monty and Bonnies playful jackass relationship in mind, and knowing how close of friends he and Moon is (friends, perhaps, depends on the context. The way Moon spoke about him probably made it seem more then that lmao), he decided to fuck with him a bit so when Monty ran over after hearing that the missing bots had re-emerged Bonnie just picked Moon up under the armpits like one of those cat pictures and handed him to Monty while saying “This yours?” and it flustered the gator and caused Moon to sputter incoherently in flustered rage. Monty still accepted the exchange and picked him up though. I really want to draw this if anyones interested.

- Freddy asked Bonnie why he didn’t come up earlier if he’s been alive for so long. Bonnie basically admit that he came up solely because the two attendants were pestering him, though he was happy that he got forced in the end. Sun added from behind him that “He agreed after I told him about you Freddy :D”. Bonnie did not appreciate that, Monty cackled in the background.

#fnaf security breach au #twin dads au #fnaf glamrock bonnie #fnaf glamrock freddy #fnaf monty #daycare attendant #fnaf sun #sunrise #sundrop #fnaf moon #moondrop #fnaf security breach disassemble vanny ending #fnaf gregory #fnaf glamrock freddy x glamrock bonnie #montydrop #glittergolf

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junghelioseok · 4 years ago

Text

clandestine. | 01

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 10.3k [1/6]

notes: this fic was originally going to be a oneshot, but i changed my mind and decided i didn’t want to kill tumblr with a totally unnecessary 50k jk fic so 🤷🏻‍♀️ here is part one of a fic that 100% only came about because @puellaigmotum coerced me into it like 2 years ago (lmao rip 💀) and also bc i have zero self-control and am hopelessly h*rny for jungkook these days and don’t look at me i don’t wanna talk about it okay??? 🙈

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink, some ~under the table~ action, too much detail about jk’s dumb veiny arms probably, but at least he doesn’t have tattoos bc i started writing this before he got them and i don’t need to torture myself anymore than i already do!!!

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

It’s always been easy to spot your brother in a crowd. Passengers flood off the train, jostling around you on their way to the station’s exit, but even in the swarm you can perfectly see Jimin’s golden head of hair bobbing its way toward you, a deep scowl etched across his face. “You’re late,” he says in lieu of a greeting, his honey brown eyes raking over your scuffed suitcase distastefully as he comes to a stop a few feet away.

“And you’re just as impatient as ever,” you retort, coming to a stop before him with your luggage in tow. “Think you can lord it over me since you can drive now?”

“Don’t forget that I’m your ride home,” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I could just as easily leave you here to fend for yourself.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you tell him, raising a brow in silent challenge.

Jimin stares down at you unflinchingly, and you stare right back. The tension stretches between you, taut and heavy, until every passing second feels like a light year. Around you, the crowd slowly dissipates, but still you remain—two motionless statues locked in a wordless struggle. From somewhere overhead, a monotone voice announces the next train departure times.

Jimin’s mouth twitches. You blink, twice in quick succession.

And then your little brother breaks into a grin—one that’s so wide you fear his mouth may detach from his face entirely. An answering smile settles across your face as you watch him throw his head back, dissolving into laughter that you can’t help but echo.

“Damn it, Chim!” you say, instinctively grabbing onto his wrist when it looks like he might fall over. “Your poker face still sucks.”

“I’ve gotten better!” Jimin immediately defends. “I mean, you’ve got to admit that, right?”

“Nope.” You sigh and hold a hand over your head so you can measure your height against his ever-so-slightly taller frame. “Same old annoying kid I grew up with. Seriously, have you grown at all in the past year?”

“Whoa, too far, Noona.” Jimin takes ahold of both of your cheeks, pinching them affectionately. “You’re only a year older than me, you know. Besides, I’ve been taller than you for two years now!”

“I’m pretty sure hitting puberty at age seventeen isn’t something to be proud of,” you reply, pulling away from him with a mock grimace and giggling when he lets out an offended squeak. Playfully, you reach up to ruffle his hair, scrubbing your knuckles just a little too roughly against his skull.

“Noonaaa,” he complains, drawing out the last syllable until he runs out of air. “Jeez, you haven’t even been back for an hour yet and you’re already being mean to me. When do you go back to Seoul again?”

“Three weeks,” you reply, narrowing your eyes. “But I can and will make these three weeks hell for you. Don’t test me.”

Jimin snickers and drapes his arm over your shoulders. He picks up your suitcase with the other hand, and you thank him with another, gentler hair ruffle as the two of you start toward the exit of the train station. “College hasn’t changed you one bit.”

“And senior year hasn’t changed you,” you say, letting him guide you outside and breathing in the balmy summer evening air. Jimin’s brow furrows as he tries to remember where he’s parked, and you kindly take your suitcase back when he nods decisively and heads toward the left side of the lot. “You excited to graduate?”

He sighs, fumbling in his pocket for the keys as the two of you approach the car. “It’s going to suck. Your ceremony was boring as hell last year.”

“Wow, rude.”

Jimin looks up from where he’s unlocking the driver’s side door. “Am I wrong, though?”

You flash him a grin as he unlocks the remaining doors, heaving your suitcase into the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat beside him. “Nope. But afterward, you’ll be done with high school forever.”

“Thank god.” Your brother rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it further as he carefully starts the ignition and checks his mirrors with all the diligence of a new driver. Once satisfied, he pulls out of the parking space, meandering his way out of the lot and onto the main street.

The ride back to your childhood home is a short one, full of familiar storefronts and landmarks that dredge up all sorts of fond memories. You hadn’t expected your first year of university—away from your family and your hometown—to make you quite so emotional. But before you know it, Jimin is making the turn into your neighborhood, and you can’t stop the way your eyes begin to well up when you see your house in the distance.

As if reading your mind, Jimin glances at you as he pulls into the driveway. “Feel good to be home?”

You nod, blinking back tears. “Feels great.”

He grins. Pulling the key from the ignition, he climbs out of the car and grabs your suitcase, waving for you to head inside. Eagerly, you start toward the front door, but you barely make it halfway up the driveway when it bursts open, revealing your father standing there with open arms and an enormous grin. He’s just as tall as you remember, and looks exactly the same save a few more strands of silver lacing his hair. All of a sudden, you’re a little girl again, running up to give him a hug and giggling madly when he tries to scoop you up like he used to do so many years ago.

“Hi Dad,” you greet when he gives up and sets you back down on two feet. “Where’s Mom?”

“Cooking up a storm,” he replies, chortling. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he leads you into the kitchen where your mother is hunched over the stove with a spatula, delicious aromas wafting up from the array of pots and pans in front of her. “Honey, look who’s home!”

“Hi Mom,” you say, grinning when she whirls around, startled. The spatula, still dangling loosely from her hand, drips sauce onto the tiled floor, but she barely notices in her eagerness to give you a hug, throwing it down into one of the simmering pots and striding forward to wrap you up in a tight embrace.

“How was your trip?” she asks, pulling back and angling your face this way and that. “Did you sleep on the ride? Did Jimin drive safely?”

The last question draws a protesting whine from your brother, who has lugged your suitcase over the threshold and is now seated at the dining table, fiddling with a spoon. “My driving was fine, right Noona?” he says, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

“Yes, Chim,” you agree, laughing at the pleased expression that overtakes his face. Curiously, you walk over to the stove to inspect the food, your jaw dropping as you take in the assorted vegetables and meats. “Wow, Mom. Are you cooking for an army?”

“Jungkook is coming over for dinner,” she explains, following you over and plucking up the spatula again. “That boy has the biggest appetite I’ve ever seen—you remember, right?”

You laugh. “Of course I remember. He and Jimin were always stealing bites of my lunch at school.” Peering over at your brother, you fix him with a mock glare before walking over to the cutting board on the counter and sizing up the pile of onions and peppers sitting there. “It’ll be nice to see him again, though. How is he doing?”

To your surprise, a new voice answers your question—a voice that somehow manages to be simultaneously familiar and foreign. “Why don’t you ask me directly, Noona?” it says, and you whirl around, wide-eyed, to face the newcomer.

This can’t possibly be Jeon Jungkook, is your first thought upon seeing the young man standing in the kitchen doorway. The Jungkook you knew in high school was a scrawny kid—all gangly limbs and a nose that was too big for his face. The Jungkook you knew wore oversized white t-shirts that made him look even younger than he was, a look that was only enhanced by round wire-rimmed glasses that always gave him a look of permanent astonishment. The Jungkook you knew was nowhere near this tall, and definitely not this broad.

But this Jungkook—this Jungkook takes up nearly the entire doorframe with his bulk. Dark eyes stare at you from beneath equally dark hair, his gaze unhindered by his old glasses. A cobalt blue shirt stretches tight over his chest, and you swallow when you notice just how much the buttons are straining to contain the muscle underneath. Black jeans and simple black sneakers complete his outfit, and the entire look is so jarringly different from what you’re used to that you are left momentarily speechless, gaping like a fish out of water. Vaguely, you wonder when he got his ears pierced.

And then Jungkook—or at least, the young man claiming to be Jungkook—takes three steps forward, his entire face melting into a crinkly-eyed grin. You catch a glimpse of the adorably prominent front teeth that always made him look like a rabbit, and that’s all it takes to break the spell.

“Jungkookie!” you exclaim, darting forward to greet him. “It’s been so long!”

“Hi, Noona,” he replies, his grin widening at your approach. In an instant, he has you wrapped up in an embrace, easily lifting you off the floor in a display of strength that would’ve had a lesser woman swooning. His hands curl firmly around your waist, and you have no choice but to wrap yours around his nape, squeaking in protest when he spins you in a full circle.

“Kookie!” you gasp, wriggling helplessly in his grasp and huffing when he only cackles. “Put me down!”

Obediently, Jungkook lowers you back to the ground. His hands linger on your waist until he’s certain that both your feet are planted firmly, and it’s only then that he pulls back to get a good look at your face. “You know I’d never drop you, right?” he asks innocently.

“As if I can trust anything that comes out of your mouth,” you retort with a laugh. “I’ve seen you scam your way out of detention with those pretty doe eyes. Don’t try me, kid.”

Jungkook snorts. “Kid? I’m not that much younger than you. Plus I’m older than Jimin, y’know.”

“By a month!” your brother protests from the dining room, his blond head popping up from behind the vase of daisies serving as a centerpiece.

“Month and a half,” Jungkook stage-whispers to you, cupping a hand and bringing his mouth to your ear conspiratorially. His breath tickles your cheek, and you swat him away with a giggle that becomes a full-on laugh when Jimin lets out an offended cry and rises to his feet. Striding over, he pokes Jungkook squarely in the chest, his eyes narrowed.

“I invite you over to my house and this is the thanks I get?”

Your dad chooses that moment to interrupt from the living room. “Your house? When exactly did you start paying rent, Jimin?”

Jimin’s jaw drops. “Are you taking his side?” he asks in disbelief, glaring at Jungkook when he starts laughing. “I’m your son!”

“I’m your father,” your dad replies.

“And I’m your mother,” your mom pipes up, brandishing a spoon. “And I’m telling all of you to get your butts over to that dining table in the next ten seconds, or no dinner for any of you.”

Your dad, Jimin, and Jungkook immediately fall silent, cowed by her proclamation. Grinning, you join your mother at the counter, grabbing a handful of spoons and accepting the platter of kimchi she hands over. “Direct as always, Mom.”

She laughs and picks up a bowl of rice. “To deal with men like them? You have to be.”

Food in hand, you make your way into the dining room. The table is set, the steaming food arranged neatly in the center, and you watch as your mother takes her seat next to Jimin and leaves you to sit beside Jungkook on the opposite side. Your father beams from his spot at the head of the table, glancing at each of you in turn before turning and giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“Look at you kids, all sitting at the same table again.” He sighs, and you’re certain that he’s thinking back to the last time all of you were together—well over a year ago, at this point. “It’s a shame that your parents couldn’t join us, though, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, they told me to apologize on their behalf. They have tickets for the theatre tonight, and couldn’t get a refund on them.”

Your father laughs and waves the apology off. “I’m sure we’ll catch them next time,” he says. “Pretty hard to avoid each other when you live next door, isn’t it?”

“Definitely,” Jungkook agrees with a chuckle. Then he turns to you, the silver hoops in his ears glinting in the light from the overhead chandelier. “I’m sure they’ll drop by soon to see you, Noona. Mom wants to hear all about Seoul—I think she’s worried about sending me so far away by myself.”

“Junghyun stayed in Busan for university, didn’t he?” your mom asks.

Jungkook nods. “Yep, he still lives downtown and everything. He wanted to come over tonight, but his work wouldn’t let him take the time off.”

Your mom sighs. “That’s such a shame. Is he at least attending your graduation?”

“He’s driving in the day after tomorrow for the ceremony,” Jungkook confirms. Then he pauses, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His gaze flickers down to the plate of sweet potatoes on the other side of the table, and before he can even open his mouth, your mother is already passing him the plate. He thanks her with an embarrassed chuckle but digs into the food nonetheless, and everyone else takes it as a sign to follow suit. You’re in the middle of scooping rice into your bowl when Jimin speaks up again.

“So what’s it like living in Seoul?” he asks, his cheeks bulging with pork belly. “You have roommates, right?”

“Suitemates,” you correct. “But yeah, I live with three other people. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jennie are all great though, so it hasn’t been a problem.”

Jungkook pauses mid-chew to gape at you. “You live with guys?”

“My building’s co-ed,” you explain. “We all have separate bedrooms, but we share a common space and bathrooms.”

Your mother—on the lookout for any potential future grandchildren, as always—perks up. “Namjoon and Hoseok sound like nice boys. Are you friends?”

“Yes, Mom,” you sigh. “We’re friends. Just friends.” And then before she can ask about whether or not any other boys have caught your eye, you quickly turn back to your brother. “So, what’s your plan for next year? Are you and Jungkook living together?”

Jimin hums. “Yep, that’s the plan. Unless you want to live with us too, Noona.”

You laugh. “Why, so I can protect you from all the bullies like I did in elementary school?”

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “More like so I can protect you from all the weird college guys. Who’s this Hoseok guy anyway? Do I need to beat him up?”

“Please don’t beat up Hobi,” you entreaty, giggling when he pretends to crack his knuckles. “Or Joon!” you add quickly when he remains undeterred and makes to stand up from the table to defend your honor. Balling up your napkin, you throw it at him, and both of you burst into hysterics when your makeshift weapon bounces off his forehead and straight into his glass of water. The rest of dinner passes in a haze of similarly playful antics and happy chatter, and by the time the last bowl is scraped clean, it feels as if you’d never even left.

“I’ll do the dishes,” you volunteer, standing up and gathering up the empty platters. Jungkook and Jimin are quick to jump to your aid, collecting any utensils that you missed, and you offer them a grateful smile as they follow you into the kitchen.

“Let me do the washing, Noona.” Jungkook rolls up the sleeves of his cobalt blue shirt to expose a familiar silver watch glinting on his left wrist—a watch that his father handed down to him when he was sixteen, and that had been worn by his grandfather before him. You still remember the day he’d first worn it to school, proudly displaying it even though the band was too loose around his narrow wrist.

He’s grown into it now, you realize. The watch no longer flops around like it used to, and sits snugly in place instead. Your eyes trace the silver buckle on the inside of his wrist before trailing up to follow the network of thin, branching veins in his forearm, admiring the smooth flex of muscle as he grabs a sponge from the wire rack hanging above the sink and squirts some dish soap onto the surface.

“I’ll dry,” Jimin chirps, selecting a towel and brandishing it. “Noona, do you want to help me? We’ll finish faster that way.”

Nodding, you pull another towel out from the drawer and rejoin the two boys at the sink. Jungkook washes quickly and efficiently, and you determinedly avoid staring at the way water trickles along the patchwork veins on his hands as he gives you bowl after bowl to dry.

It doesn’t take long for all the dishes to be washed and dried. The three of you take the time to put them back into the proper cabinets before bidding your parents a good night, heading out onto the back porch. Falling back into old routines feels like second nature, so you plop down onto the steps without hesitation and grin when Jungkook takes a seat beside you.

“Wait, I almost forgot!” Jimin exclaims, bouncing up from where he was beginning to sit down next to Jungkook. “I bought some beer earlier and left it in the trunk. Be right back!”

You watch your brother run off, his floppy blond hair a stark contrast with the deep blue evening sky. In seconds, he’s disappeared around the corner of the house, leaving you and Jungkook alone on the porch steps.

“Chim really hasn’t changed one bit,” you remark with a laugh, turning toward your dark-haired companion.

Jungkook chuckles. “The kid loves his alcohol, that’s for sure.”

“Please.” You elbow him in the ribs. “I know you’re just as bad as he is.”

“Maybe,” he concedes with another chuckle. “But come on, Noona, you can’t tell me you don’t enjoy a drink every now and then. What about all that college stress?”

You hum, leaning back on your hands and staring up at the sky where the full moon is just beginning to rise, surrounded by a smattering of stars peeking through the velvety darkness of night. “I never said that I didn’t enjoy a drink, or five.” Jungkook laughs at your remark, and you smile before letting out a soft sigh. “I’m glad Jimin got the beer, though. Maybe I’ll finally be able to stop stressing out about my internship.”

That sobers Jungkook up immediately, his eyes widening as he peers down at you and lays a gentle hand on your back. “Are you still worried? You already got the job, didn’t you?”

You nod slowly, thinking back to the job offer that you had accepted at the end of the semester. It had been difficult finding a company in your desired field that offered internships to first-year students, but with dogged persistence and a lot of luck, you’d managed to snag a summer position. It isn’t due to start for another three weeks, however, and while you’re grateful for the chance to visit your family, part of you also wishes that you didn’t have to wait such a long time. “I just have no idea what to expect, you know? The only jobs I’ve ever had were in retail and food service, and that was all ages ago. I don’t feel ready at all.”

A strong arm settles across your shoulders, and you look up to see Jungkook gazing down at you with something indiscernible sparkling in his deep brown eyes. “You’re gonna be amazing,” he murmurs, his voice whisper-soft. “You know that, right? You always are. This won’t be any different.”

And you believe him. Every detail of his face is bathed in silvery moonlight—the gentle slope of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw, the little scar high on his cheekbone—and you wonder how you never realized how handsome he is before now. And maybe it’s the low, soothing timbre of his voice, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you—with unspeakable tenderness and gentle affection glimmering in his irises—but you lean in before you can even realize what you’re doing. You don’t look away, and neither does he.

Jungkook’s gaze drops, trailing down the slope of your cheeks until it lands on the curve of your mouth. He hesitates for a split second, his throat bobbing harshly as he swallows and sucks in a breath.

And then his lips are pressing against yours—soft and tentative and just a little bit chapped. Your eyes flutter shut almost on instinct, your body relaxing as he shifts and pulls you a little more firmly against him. Slowly, his arm finds its way to the curve of your waist and settles there. Your fingers curl around his nape, carding through his silky hair.

It’s only when Jungkook’s tongue darts out to run along the seam of your lips that reality comes crashing back down, your stomach plummeting down to somewhere around your toes as you wrench away from his embrace. “Kookie!” you gasp, your breathing labored. “We can’t!”

Jungkook blinks, momentarily entrancing you with the way the stars reflect in his gaze like glittering diamonds. “Why not?” he asks, reaching out for you again. “You kissed me back, didn’t you?”

Squeaking, you bat his hands away. “Jungkook, no! We can’t! You’re Jimin’s best friend, and god, this is all kinds of weird, and—“

The dark-haired young man looks like he wants to protest more, but the sound of footsteps coming back around the house sends both of you scooting back to your original positions on the porch steps. Jimin appears two seconds later, plopping down beside Jungkook cheerfully and dropping a six-pack of beer at his feet.

“What’d I miss?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the tension lingering in the air as he pops open a bottle and hands it to you.

“Nothing,” you say immediately, accepting the proffered beer. The cool glass bottle is a welcome relief, and you hurriedly take a long sip when your mind unwillingly begins to wander back to just how warm and soft your dark-haired companion’s lips had been.

Jungkook is much slower to respond to Jimin’s question. His shoulders slump as he reaches down to grab a drink of his own, twisting the cap open viciously and taking a swig. “Yeah,” he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nothing at all.”

Luck must be on your side, because Jimin doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss as he grabs a beer for himself and flops backward, resting his weight on his elbows as he gazes up at the night sky. “It’s nice out,” he remarks, looking utterly at ease.

You are anything but. Beside you, Jungkook is sipping pensively on his beer, and you are painfully aware of the heat radiating off his body. Jimin is still chattering away, rambling about whatever pops into his head, and you take the opportunity to sneak a glance at Jungkook. His face is cast in silvery luminescence from the moon, his mouth pulled down into a deep, contemplative frown—and you are once again forced to shake off thoughts of how nice it felt to have his mouth pressed against yours.

This is Jeon Jungkook, you tell yourself sternly. Friend, neighbor, and Jimin’s best friend in the entire universe. You kissed him, sure, but it was a mistake. A moment of weakness. And it won’t happen again.

You repeat that over and over, silently reciting it in your head like a mantra, until, at last, you finally start to believe it.

///

You’re in the middle of brewing a fresh pot of coffee after a lazy morning spent sleeping in when you spot Jungkook outside through the kitchen window. He’s standing in the yard in a sleeveless white tee, wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand as he thoughtfully regards the row of hedges that serves as the property line between your house and the Jeons’ house next door. In his other hand is a shovel, and you can’t help the way your gaze automatically traces his exposed biceps, admiring the way they flex when he finally selects a spot and begins digging.

“Is the coffee done yet, Noona?”

Jimin’s voice yanks your attention away from your gardening neighbor, your vision overtaken by a mess of fluffy blond bedhead as he sneaks into the space between you and the counter and obnoxiously cuts you off from the pot of fresh brew. “Hey!” you protest, but Jimin just gives you a cheeky wink before grabbing a mug and pouring out a generous helping of piping hot coffee. After a moment’s thought, he pours you a mug as well, handing it over with an exaggerated bow.

You roll your eyes, but accept the warm cup nonetheless. Following him into the living room, you make yourself comfortable on the couch as he flops down onto the carpeted floor and turns on the television. Idly, he begins flipping through the channels in search for something to watch, and you endure random snippets of the morning news, a cheesy soap opera, and a series of infomercials before sighing and rising to your feet again. “I’m getting some food. Want some toast, Chimchim?”

“Mmm. Sure.”

Slowly, you meander your way back into the kitchen. Your mother is standing at the counter stirring sugar into her coffee, and you smile as you walk up to join her. “Morning, Mom.”

“Good morning, sweetie,” she says, taking a careful sip of her drink. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log,” you reply with a grin. Grabbing the loaf of bread off the counter, you pull out a few slices and shove them in the toaster. “Do you want toast? I’m making some for me and Chimchim.”

“Just one slice for me,” she says, opening up the dish cabinet and pulling out three plates. Obligingly, you hand her one of the two freshly toasted slices and drop the other onto your plate. Popping some more bread into the toaster, you’re just about to grab the jam from the fridge when there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Jimin yells from the living room. You hear the soft pad of his footsteps in the hallway and the low creak of the front door as it swings open—and then your brother is snorting out a laugh at whoever is on your doorstep. “Dude, why are you covered in dirt?”

You’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion as to who your guest is, and it’s confirmed when your brother’s question is answered.

“I’m helping Mom plant some hydrangeas out back,” Jungkook’s voice explains, his tall figure stepping into view a moment later. “Can you come help me lift the bushes?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “You could’ve just texted me.”

“Who knows if you would’ve answered?” Jungkook asks, laughing. “Knowing you, you’d just leave me on read. Besides—” and here he glances over at you, dark eyes glimmering with an emotion that you can’t quite pinpoint, “—I wouldn’t get to see two of my favorite ladies if I didn’t stop by.”

Jimin pretends to vomit at the line, but your mother laughs delightedly as Jungkook takes another step into the foyer and flashes her a winning grin. “Good morning, Jungkookie,” she greets him. “Have you eaten breakfast yet? {Name} was just making some toast, and we’ve got fresh coffee.”

Jungkook’s gaze slides over to you again, taking in the flannel pajama pants and oversized t-shirt you’re wearing. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says, though his eyes never leave yours. “I ate already, but coffee sounds wonderful.”

You are beginning to feel increasingly vulnerable as Jungkook continues looking unblinkingly in your direction. Thankfully, your mom pipes up, drawing his attention away with a decisive clap of her hands. “Coffee it is, then!” she says brightly. “{Name}, why don’t you grab Jungkook a cup?”

Hurriedly, you turn toward the cabinets, trying your best to ignore Jungkook as he chats comfortably with your family. Your success is limited though, and you can feel his penetrating stare lingering on your back even as you fetch a mug and fill it up to the brim.

“Noona.” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind you, much closer than you remember him being. “Can I have some cream and sugar, please?”

Somehow, you manage to reply without stammering. “Yeah. Sure.” Dumping some of the excess coffee into the sink, you spoon in some sugar and give it a quick stir. Just as you turn toward the refrigerator for the cream, a strong arm cuts you off.

“I got it, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs, backing you up against the counter as he tucks the little white carton into your outstretched hand. His proximity has your heart skipping several beats, and you almost drop the carton entirely when he speaks again in a husky whisper, his mouth at the shell of your ear. “Just a little bit, please.”

You are acutely aware of the heat radiating off of his body, warming your back and flushing your cheeks. Quietly, you open up the carton and pour a splash of cream into his mug, the swirl of white melding with the dark liquid within. “Is—is that enough?”

Jungkook reaches around you to open up the silverware drawer, grabbing a spoon and giving the coffee a stir. “That’s perfect,” he purrs, his hot breath stirring gooseflesh on the back of your neck.

This close to him, it’s easy to forget where you are and who you’re with, but you somehow manage to regain enough of your senses to wrench away and reclaim your personal space. “G-great,” you stammer, picking up the mug and shoving it into his hands, determinedly ignoring the ripple of his arm muscles as he accepts. “Um. Chim. Did you want your toast?”

“Yes, please,” Jimin says, barely glancing up from where he’s made himself comfortable at the kitchen island, idly playing on his phone.

Your mother pokes her head around the doorframe of the adjoining laundry room, where she has clearly started a fresh load if the sound of splashing water is anything to go by. “Don’t make your sister do all of the work, Jimin. Go help her—it’s your food, isn’t it?”

Obligingly, Jimin hops off the stool and grabs his favorite jar of jam, joining you at the counter. He takes the slice of toast you offer him, slathering it messily and taking an enormous bite. “Thanks for breakfast, Noona,” he says, blowing you an exaggerated kiss. “Ready, Kook?”

Jungkook raises his mug of coffee in acknowledgement. “Ready.” Then his gaze flickers back to you, twinkling with silent mirth. “And Noona—thanks. The coffee’s delicious.”

You can’t find the words to answer. Silently, you watch him disappear out the front door with Jimin, following his dark head of hair as it bobs across the yard. His biceps flex as he gestures for Jimin to help him lift a hydrangea bush, and your eyes linger on the stretch of defined muscle, tracing the network of prominent veins running along his forearm before your brain can caution you to stop. It’s almost as if you’re on autopilot, and by the time you zone back in, your gaze has wandered too far south for your liking. Letting out an audible groan, you tear your eyes away from the mouthwatering view of his thick thighs and return to your now-cold breakfast. And you don’t think about Jeon Jungkook again, pushing the image of his broad shoulders and handsome face into the darkest recesses of your mind.

Or at least, that was the plan. Jimin comes back inside after about an hour, tracking mud through half the house before your mother reprimands him and orders him to take off his shoes. Jungkook, thankfully, chose to return to his own home as well, and you immediately banish the thought of him showering off all the sweat and grime that has no doubt accumulated on his toned body. You shove away the mental image of water slicking his golden skin and collecting in the hollows of his collarbones, and when your mind conjures up pictures of what lies south of his waist, you resist the urge to scream into the pile of freshly laundered pillowcases your mom presses into your arms.

You’re just about to head upstairs to scream into a real pillow when there’s another knock on your front door—a familiar cadence that you heard just this morning. And that’s when you realize—to your complete and utter dismay—that Jeon Jungkook isn’t done tormenting you yet. Not by a long shot.

“You again? You do realize that this isn’t your house, right?” you ask, swinging open the door and thanking whatever gods may be out there that your voice remains steady. Then you raise a brow, glancing down at his change in attire. “Wait, why are you wearing a suit?”

Jungkook gives you an infuriatingly impish grin. “Do I need a reason?” His hair is still damp from the shower, a stray lock flopping down across his forehead, and as you watch him brush it away absently, you notice that he’s holding something in his free hand.

“What’s that?” you ask curiously.

Footsteps sound from behind you, interrupting before he can answer. “Jungkookie?” your mother asks, appearing at the foot of the stairs. “I thought I heard your voice. Are you here for Jimin again?”

Jungkook flashes her a winning smile and raises the garment bag he’s holding. “No, I was actually hoping to get some advice. I’ve got my suit ready to go for graduation tomorrow, but I can’t decide which shirt looks better. My mom likes how I look in blue, but I wanted a second opinion from you and Noona.”

To your utter annoyance, your mother coos and gestures for him to come in. He’s already wearing the blue shirt—a pale periwinkle one that reminds you of a cloudless day—but your mom takes the garment bag out of his hand and unzips it to look inside. “What are your options?” she asks.

“Blue, red, and yellow,” Jungkook replies, pulling each shirt off its hanger and holding them up to his chest in turn. “What do you think, Mrs. Park?”

“The blue is lovely,” your mom says thoughtfully, straightening his collar. “But this shade of yellow looks nice too. A handsome young man like you—you really can’t go wrong with any of these.”

Jungkook grins and scratches behind his ear, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Thanks, Mrs. Park.”

The dryer chooses that moment to beep shrilly, signalling the end of its cycle, and your mother darts off to tend to it, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the living room.

“What about you, Noona?” Jungkook asks, just as you’re about to try and sneak out under the pretense of helping with the laundry. “Which shirt do you like?”

“Does it matter?” you ask. “It’s just going to be hidden underneath those horrible black trash bags they make you wear.”

He laughs. “Sure, but what about before and after? You know my mom’s going to want to take a million pictures.”

“Can’t argue there.” Resigning yourself to your fate, you put your stack of clean pillowcases down on the arm of the couch and cross your arms over your chest. “Show them to me again?”

Jungkook raises the yellow shirt, holding it up for a few seconds before swapping it out for the red. “Well?”

You pause to consider it. “Red,” you decide after some deliberation, pointing at your choice. It’s a deep crimson color—almost burgundy—and you rub the silky material between your fingertips before taking it and replacing it onto its hanger. Jungkook joins you with the yellow shirt, his arm bumping into yours as you both reach for the garment bag, and even though you flinch away from the contact, Jungkook doesn’t let you stray very far. A strong hand clamps down around your forearm, and you inhale sharply when he backs you up against the wall and cages you in with his solid body.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Jungkook looks thoroughly unfazed as he blinks a few loose strands of hair out of his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Jungkook—” you hiss, struggling to see over his shoulder if your mother has returned. “Get off me.”

“Come on, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me. Ever since you got back—ever since we kissed—”

“A mistake,” you say, cutting him off with a finger to the lips and glancing around furtively to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “That was a mistake.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Was it? Because I really wanted to kiss you, and I’m pretty sure you wanted to kiss me too. You kissed back, didn’t you?”

“Y-you—“ You clear your throat and try again, cringing at how shaky your voice comes out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Jungkook simply laughs. “Don’t I?” He inches closer until you’re chest to chest, his gaze darkening as it flickers downward and lands on your mouth. Your heartbeat quickens, thudding erratically in your ribcage. It would be so easy to push to your tiptoes and close the distance between your lips.

“God,” you huff. “You’re so—”

His other eyebrow rises to join the first. “I’m so—?” he presses, tilting his head as he awaits your answer. The loose lock of hair flops across his forehead again, and this time you cannot stop yourself from reaching up to brush it away.

“Shut up,” you hiss as your fingers drop down to wind into the soft hair at his nape. “Just shut up.”

And then you’re kissing him—really, really kissing him—pulling him down to your level and sliding your free hand up his infuriatingly toned chest.

“See?” Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smug smirk as he pulls away slightly, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “I knew you were into me.”

“God, do you ever stop talking?” you retort, pushing him back until you have enough room to switch your positions and maneuver him against the wall.

Jungkook lets you pin him in place, blinking down at you lazily with his mouth still stretched into that maddening little smirk. “Only if you make me, Noona.” His hands slide down your sides, coming to a stop at your hips in an ironclad grip. “Only if you kiss me like that again.”

So you do. Your fingers tighten in his hair as you crush your mouth to his, and when his lips part you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook—still smirking—relaxes and lets you take control of the kiss, but his hands continue to wander. Before you know it, he’s already snuck underneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing warm circles into the soft skin of your waist. His lips move languidly against yours, his tongue careful and gentle in its exploration of your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you closer. You’re pressed flush against him by this point, pinning him between your body and the wall, and neither you nor he have any intent to move anytime soon.

The sudden slamming of a door jerks you back to reality. Here you are, standing in the living room where anyone could walk by and see you kissing your brother’s best friend—again. Shakily, you pull away from Jungkook with your heart in your throat, putting as much space as you possibly can between your bodies. “Fuck,” you mutter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. We can’t do this.”

Jungkook’s chest is heaving, his lips swollen and red. “{Name}—” he tries, but you shake your head and cut him off before he can continue.

“You need to leave,” you whisper.

“But—”

“Please,” you say, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. “Please, Jungkook. Just leave.”

Jungkook swallows, hard. And then, much to your relief, he picks up his garment bag, shoving both shirts back inside. “Okay,” he rasps. “I’ll go.”

Elsewhere in the house, you can hear your mother calling for Jimin. Your father is watching TV in his study—you can hear the low hum of voices and a laugh track. Your entire family is here.

And yet, you’ve never felt more alone as you watch Jungkook stride down the hallway and disappear out the front door.

///

Returning to your high school is odd. The hallways and classrooms are familiar, but they all seem smaller than you remember. And were the ceilings always this short? You aren’t sure. What you are sure of, however, is that Jungkook and his family are currently headed your way, with beaming smiles on their faces and colorful flower bouquets in hand. Greetings and congratulations are exchanged, and it isn’t long before you are face-to-face with Jungkook himself, a tight smile on his face as he meets your eyes.

“Hi, Noona.”

“Hi,” you reply. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

Now that the graduation ceremony is over, he’s taken off his robe to reveal the red shirt underneath. The silky material drapes over his torso and clings to the toned planes of his chest, and your fingers itch to run across the defined muscle. Swallowing down the urge, you instead gesture toward his parents, who are engaged in deep conversation with your own parents while Jimin chats with Junghyun off to the side. “I guess we’re all getting dinner after this, huh?”

He nods. “Yeah, at that one place downtow—“

“Jungkook! Jimin!” A feminine voice interrupts him mid-sentence, and you watch in surprise as both your brother and Jungkook are suddenly engulfed in a massive tangle of limbs. Immediately, you recognize Jisoo and Lisa—two girls you considered casual friends from your own high school days. The third girl in the trio of friends—Chaeyoung—is noticeably absent, but you don’t get a chance to question her whereabouts. “Can you believe it? We’re graduates!” Lisa is saying excitedly, still clutching tightly onto Jungkook’s shoulders. She’s pressed flush against him, her chest molded to his, and the sudden rush of jealousy that takes root in the pit of your stomach takes you aback with its ferocity.

Calm the fuck down, you instruct your pounding heart. Stop it, right now.

“Has Tae told you about the party tomorrow night?” Jisoo asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You guys better be there—and that means you, too, {Name}! It’s been forever since we’ve seen you!”

You clear your throat and attempt to smile. “Yeah, it’s been way too long. It’ll be nice to finally catch up.” Unwillingly, your gaze flickers back over to Jungkook and Lisa, doing your best to maintain a neutral expression when you notice the casual way his arm drapes over her shoulders.

Your attempts are in vain. Jungkook notices your stare immediately, a massive shit-eating grin spreading across his face. One eyebrow rises in a silent taunt, and you swear his grip around her tightens. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you instead turn back to Jisoo, finally voicing the question that’s on your mind.

“So, where’s Chaeyoung? I saw her during the ceremony, but haven’t seen her around since. She didn’t leave already, did she?”

“No, she’s still here,” Jisoo answers, exchanging a look with Lisa. Curiosity piqued, you watch her gaze dart over to Jungkook for a split second before returning to you, a tiny smile gracing her face once more. “She’s with her family right now, but she’ll be at the party tomorrow.”

“I’ll congratulate her there, then,” you say, returning her smile with one of her own. Silently, you wonder at the uneasy glance the two girls had exchanged, but decide not to press it, chalking it up to some senior year drama that isn’t any of your business.

“Well, we should probably get going,” Jisoo says after another beat. “We’re off to dinner.”

“We should be on our way too,” you agree, glancing over at where your parents are still chatting, having absorbed Junghyun into their conversation at some point. Bidding the two girls goodbye, you sidle over to join them, trying your best to subtly nudge your parents toward the door.

After what feels like an eternity, your parents finally decide that they’re ready for a change in scenery. The drive to the restaurant is blessedly short, much to the relief of your grumbling stomach, and you are more than grateful for the brief reprieve from Jungkook and his knowing smirk. It doesn’t last long, however, and you mentally brace yourself when you spot the Jeons’ car in the parking lot of the restaurant. Upon entering, you are quickly ushered to your reserved table where the Jeons are already waiting, and somehow in the shuffle you end up right between Jungkook and Junghyun, the former’s face dissolving into a satisfied grin as he watches you sit down.

Then he turns to Jimin, who’s seated on his other side. “Hey, man.”

You bristle at the blatant way he’s ignoring you. But two can play at that game, so you turn to Junghyun with a winning smile, laying a hand on his shoulder for good measure. The older Jeon brother is four years your senior, but despite the age difference, you’ve always gotten along well.

“Junghyun, I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been?”

The elder Jeon grins and leans in to give you a hug. “Good, good—work’s insane, but that’s old news. What about you? How’s school going so far?”

You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, hot and heavy. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle under the weight of it, and you resist the urge to shiver. Instead, you give Junghyun’s bicep a final squeeze before pulling away, steadfastly ignoring the way Jungkook lets out a disgruntled hiss from between his teeth.

“School is good,” you tell Junghyun. “I’m trying to get all my general requirements out of the way early, so my first semester wasn’t very interesting. I took some more focused classes in the second, though, which made things infinitely better.”

The elder Jeon laughs. “Guess that means you’re on the right track then, huh?”

“Guess so,” you reply, laughing right along with him.

The server stops by to take drink orders, and your parents take it upon themselves to order food for the table as well. You continue chatting amicably with Junghyun as the server returns with a tray of water, sodas, and soju; beside you, Jungkook does the same with Jimin. The only break in conversation comes when the server—a pretty girl with a chirpy voice and a nametag that reads ‘Mina’—leans over to set a glass of Coke down in front of Jungkook. He thanks her with a crooked smirk and a low purr of gratitude that has her cheeks flushing pink, and it’s all you can do not to gape at him like a fish. The flirtatious quirk of his lips, the seductive tone—it all comes far too naturally to him, and you wonder for a moment just where the old Jungkook has gone. The Jungkook you used to know stammered every time he had to talk to an unfamiliar girl, and had trouble looking even you in the eye despite having known you since grade school.

But now, he’s nowhere to be found. The young man sitting beside you remains as calm as can be, shifting his body toward Mina so that he can request a straw.

“Of course, here you go!” Mina’s gaze lingers on his hand as he accepts the proffered straw, eyes widening when his fingers brush against hers lightly.

“Fast service,” Jungkook remarks, his voice dipping into a low, indolent drawl. “I like that.”

Mina giggles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She’s clearly about to respond to him—flirt right back, undoubtedly—but your father stands up and taps his glass with a spoon before she can open her mouth. “I want to make a toast,” he says, and you send him a silent, heartfelt thank you when Mina wisely chooses to make herself scarce. “Congratulations to Jungkook and Jimin, our two rad grads!”

An audible groan rises up from your side of the table, where Jimin has buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god, Dad.”

“What?” your father asks innocently. “I really think you’re rad, grad!”

Jimin groans again, muffled by the sleeves of his jacket. “I want the earth to swallow me whole.”

Laughter all around. More toasts are given, and the bottles of soju scattered around the table slowly dwindle down to their last dregs. Junghyun picks up the one closest to him and fills up your glass for the fourth time, drawing a protesting whine from your lips as you try to cut him off. “Wait, that’s not fair! Pour some for yourself too!”

“Relax, we can always order more,” Junghyun says with a laugh, topping off your glass before glancing around to find Mina. Much to your irritation, she’s already headed your way, bearing loaded platters of meat and vegetables and wearing a bright smile that seems to only be directed to Jungkook.

“I hope you’re all hungry!” she chirps, coming to a stop between you and the subject of her affections. You swear she shoots you a dirty look over her shoulder before turning back to the table, her cheerful facade back in place as she smiles at Jungkook. “Where did you want me to put the meat?”

“Anywhere it’ll fit,” Jungkook tells her with a suggestive smirk, keeping his voice soft enough so that only you and she can hear.

Mina cannot hide her answering smile. Likewise, you cannot hide the way your nostrils flare, throat bobbing as you swallow down the ugly feelings bubbling up in your chest. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze roving across your skin, but you refuse to look at him, stubbornly facing the front as Mina distributes food around the table. As soon as she’s departed again—her fingers brushing across the back of Jungkook’s chair in the process—you’re up and out of your seat, heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.

“Restroom,” you say shortly by way of explanation. It’s thankfully empty when you arrive, and you immediately make a beeline toward the sink to splash some cold water on your cheeks.

It’s absurd—this snaking jealousy coiling in your belly and winding up between the slats of your ribcage. Straightening up, you give your reflection in the mirror a stern look, silently willing the feelings in your chest to abate. Gradually, your heartbeat slows into a regular rhythm, your cheeks cooling, and after waiting another two minutes, you decide that it’s been long enough. Drying off your hands, you exit the restroom and wind your way back to the table, keeping your pace leisurely even when Jungkook looks up and catches your eye. His expression is unreadable, and you valiantly ignore his burning gaze as you take a seat.

“How is everything?” you ask Junghyun, picking up a spoon and piling your plate with food from the nearest platter.

Junghyun pauses mid-bite to answer. His mouth opens, but you don’t catch his answer because there is a sudden, heavy weight on your knee. A warm palm caresses the skin exposed by the hem of your dress, slow and sensual and deliberate. Your eyes widen and your lips part, but no sound escapes. The rest of the table’s occupants fade away into the background, conversations and laughter dulling into a low drone. Beside you, Junghyun is still talking, but all you can hear is blood rushing through your ears.

And on your other side, Jungkook is smirking.

The bastard.

Gentle fingertips skim along your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Your entire body stiffens, but Jungkook refuses to relent. He’s still chatting with Jimin, chuckling at a joke you didn’t hear, and you wonder how he can remain so calm when you are anything but. Your heart takes off in a sprint, clattering wildly against your ribcage, and for a few moments you are absolutely positive that everyone at the table can hear. Any moment, one of your parents will look over and see how wide your eyes are and how warm your cheeks feel. Any moment, Jimin will look down and see his best friend’s arm snaking beneath the table and realize what’s happening.

And then Jungkook squeezes your thigh, and all thought flies out of your head, dissipating like fog in the sunlight. He’s growing increasingly bold, his fingers trailing up until he can trace the hem of your dress, teasing at the soft material. Your breath hitches in your throat, and Jungkook’s smirk widens. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, trying to hide his smugness behind his soju glass, and for a moment you’re tempted to throw his drink in his face.

But more than that—more than anything else right now—you want him to continue touching you.

He’s sliding beneath your dress now, inching down to the delicate skin of your inner thigh and tracing nonsensical patterns there. You grip the edge of the table as he trails closer and closer to the lace of your panties, knuckles turning white against the dark wood. It’s a wonder no one has noticed your flustered state yet, and you cast concerned glances at Junghyun and Jimin before Jungkook notices your inattention. Punishingly, he slides a single finger into your panties, snapping the lace against your skin and covering the sound with a cough that he buries in his elbow. He can’t hide the way you jolt in your seat though, your knee thudding against the table. Junghyun gives you a worried look, laying a hand on your shoulder as he asks if you’re okay, and you hurriedly nod. And underneath the table, Jungkook resumes his ministrations, languorous and soft and deliberately avoiding the place you need him most, as if he has all the time in the world.

There’s a growing damp spot between your legs. You can feel it seeping through the cottony material of your panties, sticking uncomfortably to your folds. Jungkook’s touch is whisper-soft, caressing along your thigh until your skin is tingling, and it’s all you can do to swallow down the whimper that’s bubbling up in your throat. He’s thoroughly enjoying this—you can tell—and you’re certain he can feel the way you tense up when he suddenly drags a single finger up your clothed slit. A low hiss escapes your parted lips, and in an instant, all eyes are on you.

“Noona?” Jimin asks curiously. “Something wrong?”

“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for an excuse. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. The, uh, sauce was just spicier than I was expecting it to be.”

You haven’t touched a single thing on your plate in minutes, but no one seems to notice your obvious lie. Conversation resumes, and you determinedly pick up your spoon again, intent on getting something more substantial in your belly than the fluttering butterflies that have taken up residence there.

“You sure you want to eat that, Noona?” Jungkook’s voice reaches your ears—a low, dulcet purr that sends electricity shooting down your spine. “You should probably drink some water to cool down.”

And before you can answer—before you even manage to reach for your water glass—he’s slipped his hand into your panties, the warm pad of his thumb pressing experimentally against your clit. The slight pressure has you gasping, your heart pounding hard enough to leap out of your chest as you drop your spoon. Your hands drop down to your lap—one gripping the edge of your chair while the other finds its way around Jungkook’s wrist, and you aren’t sure whether you’re trying to stop him or spur him on. His arm muscles flex underneath your fingertips, and that’s all the warning you get before he angles his hand, a lone finger sinking inside your drenched entrance.

“Oh, fuck.” You can’t stop the strangled curse that escapes your lips, an airy hiss from behind clenched teeth. Your grip on Jungkook’s wrist tightens, but it doesn’t seem to dissuade him at all as he begins a leisurely pace, sinking deeper into your cunt with each thrust.

Luckily, no one hears your whimper. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you bite back the sounds threatening to spill out and instead focus on maintaining as neutral an expression as you can muster. Beneath the table, Jungkook remains relentless. Even when your mother looks over and addresses him directly, he doesn’t cease his ministrations, keeping both his tone and his pace even as he responds.

“Jungkookie, you’ve barely touched your pork belly. Are you full already?”

“Stuffed,” Jungkook replies smoothly. He punctuates the word by adding a second finger, and you almost bang your knee on the table again, your eyes going wide at his audacity.

Your mother pushes the platter of meat closer to him anyway. “No need to be polite, honey. Here, eat up.”

Obligingly, Jungkook picks out a few pieces with his free hand and piles them on his plate. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says as he brings some to his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

Satisfied, your mother turns her attention elsewhere. Jungkook returns his to you, and you almost groan aloud when his thumb brushes against your clit again, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud before he sheathes both fingers inside you once more. There’s a growing heat coiling in the pit of your stomach by this point, lighting every single one of your nerves on fire. Your body is screaming for release, and Jungkook seems more than eager to give it to you. He’s freed his wrist from your grip, leaving you to clutch helplessly at the table as he angles his fingers upward. No doubt he’s searching for the spot that will have you seeing stars, and you know he’s found it when a sudden burst of pleasure spikes through you. Your mouth falls lax, and Jungkook grins, thoroughly satisfied.

There’s something building inside you, something that has your tummy tensing and your toes curling in your shoes. Jungkook’s fingers dig deep, his palm rubbing against your clit with every thrust, and it takes every remaining ounce of your self-control to resist the urge to rock your hips into his hand. A bit more of that delicious friction, and you’ll be falling over the edge. You know it, and so does Jungkook if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

And then a voice is pulling you back to reality, a warm hand settling on your shoulder. You flinch at the contact, your startled gaze flying up to Junghyun’s, and balk when you see him staring at you with equal parts amusement and concern.

“I—what?” you stammer. “Did… did you say something?”

Beneath the table, you feel Jungkook’s fingers retreat, leaving you empty and aching for release. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook wipe his glistening hand on his napkin, a frown that can only be described as petulant settling onto his face.

“Whoa, relax!” Junghyun drags your attention back to him, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I just wanted to say goodbye. I have to be up early for work tomorrow, so I’m driving back into the city tonight.”

“Oh!” It takes you a few seconds to process his words. “Right, yeah. Have a safe drive back. It was good to see you.”

“Ditto,” he replies, flashing you a warm grin. “But hey, are you all right? You’ve been a little weird the whole night. Was it the food?”

Gratefully, you seize upon the excuse. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I think maybe something isn’t sitting quite right in my stomach, but I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it.”

He nods and leans in for a hug. “Take care of yourself, yeah?”

“You too. Bye, Junghyun.”

With the elder Jeon brother’s departure, everyone else quickly decides that it’s time to disperse as well. You adamantly refuse to look in Jungkook’s direction as your parents fight over the bill, focusing your goodbyes on Mr. and Mrs. Jeon even when he glances your way with a knowing little smirk and a soft murmur of, “Bye, Noona.”

You can’t look at him. Not when every movement reminds you just how damp your panties are, your core begging for relief. Not when he’s waggling his fingers in farewell—the gesture anything but innocent. “Bye,” you warble weakly, before fleeing to the car.

The memory of his fingers burns fresh in your mind later that night as you lie in bed, your hand stuffed down your panties and working furiously to find that sweet, sweet relief.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #kpop scenarios #brother's best friend!au #brother's best friend au #lia writes

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riotwritesthings · 3 years ago

Text

Location Matters

WinterIron, E, 2.6k - PWP, semi-public sex, anal fingering, begging, dirty talk, edging, orgasm delay

Ayyy welcome to the first day of Smutober! Yes that’s right, I’m going with Smutober, Kinktober didn’t quite feel right when I’m much more focused on just writing smut than getting through a list of unique kinks. And I’m not following any prompt list at all, just my heart. And I have no idea how many fics I’ll actually be able to get out this month, I have been having a Bad Brain Time, as the kids say, but I’m gonna do what I can and it’s better than nothing right?! Anywho I’m here to break rules and write smut so lets get to it!!

~~~

“Please,” Tony sobs as he arches his back harder, fingers scrabbling at the shelves in front of him and he really can’t bring himself to care about the several packets of pasta that go tumbling to the ground.

Even if he didn’t consider dry pasta a terrible abomination, Tony has way better things to focus on anyways. Like the solid line of heat that is Bucky pressed in close against him, pinning Tony securely between Bucky’s broad chest and the corner of the shelves as two of Bucky’s calloused fingers slowly press into him.

Tony knows they’re being more than a little ridiculous. They are grown adults with their own bedroom, but here they are in the common kitchen of the compound, barely hidden away in the walk-in pantry with Bucky’s hand shoved down his pants like horny teenagers. He can feel Bucky’s cock nudging hard and thick against the back of his thigh and Tony is well on his way to fully hard himself, rocking back against Bucky’s hand and trying to force him to move faster.

“Fuck, I- you- I need—“ Tony gasps out, voice breaking off into a moan when Bucky’s fingers press a little deeper. His grip on the shelves slips again as he can’t decide between turning to face Bucky or just trying to force himself back onto Bucky’s fingers, trying to get more, and Tony ends up just kind of twitching and thrashing in place.

“Patience, baby,” Bucky rumbles, his lips moving over the skin beneath Tony’s ear and that’s probably Tony’s least favorite thing to hear but oh he loves the way Bucky says it, low and rumbling and burning with intensity.

Bucky shifts his wrist a little and it works Tony’s worn pajamas down a little lower past the curve of his ass, but not enough to free his cock from the clinging fabric. When Tony rocks his hips in place, trying get any friction, or Bucky’s fingers pressing into him deeper, or anything, all he gets is the faint drag of soft flannel over his leaking cock. Tony lets out a desperate groan and tries to buck his hips harder, but Bucky just moves with him, not letting Tony have more than the not-enough stretch of two of Bucky’s fingertips barely working him open. Which, after Bucky thoroughly fucked him into the couch earlier today, it’s not nearly enough.

“What do you mean patience, we are in the kitchen,” Tony finally manages to get out, and his voice might be rough and breathy but he still thinks it’s a decent point.

Sure, it was some ungodly hour of the morning when they finished their latest Star Trek binge and first stumbled down here looking for snacks, but Tony has honestly lost track of time entirely at this point. He has no idea how long it’s been since Bucky kicked the pantry door shut behind them and crowded Tony up against the shelves and or all he knows the damn early birds in the house will be along any second, yanking the door open looking for the pancake mix or something and getting a whole-ass eyeful. Literally.

But in the next second all thought is pushed from Tony’s mind when Bucky’s fingers finally press deeper, nudging over his prostate as they twist inside him. Tony had more good points to make, he swears he did, but he forgets all of them as Bucky begins to finger him in earnest, pressing kisses to Tony’s throat and mouthing filthy paise into his skin, bringing Tony right up to the edge with the almost brutal efficiency that he’s basically perfected.

“’S this what you wanted, baby? Want me to really work you open, make you feel it?” Bucky demands roughly, his lips sliding up to Tony’s jaw and all Tony can manage is a shaking whine, trying desperately to shove himself back onto Bucky’s fingers. “Yeah, always take it so fuckin’ sweet, feel so perfect wrapped around me, clenching an’ shakin’, still tryin’ to fuck yourself back on my fingers even when you can’t barely move.”

As if to prove his point Bucky presses Tony in harder against the shelves, pinning him in place as every twist and thrust of Bucky’s fingers set off new shockwaves of pleasure through Tony’s whole body, pushing him higher. Bucky alternates between deep thrusts that make Tony ache for more and relentless jabs to his prostate that are driving Tony out of his mind.

“Please, please,” Tony begs, shaking as Bucky’s fingers stroke over his prostate again, tension winding tighter in his gut and he’s so close. He’s sobbing out every breath as Bucky’s fingers bear down harder and Tony clenches around them, arching back into the pressure as his balls draw up tight and the knot of pleasure inside him twists tighter, tighter—

And then Bucky’s fingers disappear, withdrawing from him entirely and Tony is left dangling right at the edge without anything to push him over, clenching around nothing and feeling so empty. He can’t even rock his hips in place for the light drag of his pajamas over his cock, Bucky’s free hand tight on his hip to hold him in place and it only accentuates the waves of pleasure still sparking along Tony’s nerves, not quite enough.

“What the fuck,” Tony groans, “you hate me, you hate me and you want me to die like this, is that it?!”

“Tha’s what you always say when I try to take my time with you,” Bucky points out with a low, rumbling laugh as he drags his fingers too-lightly over Tony’s loose hole.

“And I’m still convinced it’s true!” Tony replies, his voice caught somewhere between a snap and a whine. He has more to say, but he’s interrupted by Bucky pressing back into him with three fingers this time, stretching him that little bit wider and he’s so loose, so desperate, that there’s not even a burn. All Tony feels is the stretch of it as Bucky’s fingers sink all the way into him, until Tony can feel him everywhere.

Bucky’s fingers thrust in and out of him in an unsteady rhythm, working him up without ever giving him enough to push him to the edge again and Tony buries his face in his folded arms to try and muffle the sob that bursts out of him. His legs are doing nothing to support him at this point, it’s only Bucky’s hand on his hip and Bucky’s chest pressed flush against his shoulder blades and Bucky’s fingers buried deep inside him, holding him up and taking him apart.

He can’t think past the waves of pleasure that rush through him every time Bucky just barely nudges his prostate, the shudders that run through him when Bucky withdraws his fingers just enough to tug at his stretched rim, making sure Tony feels it. And just when Tony thinks the knot in his gut can’t wind any tighter, that he’s about to come with nothing more than the maddeningly inconsistent press and twist of Bucky’s thick fingers inside him, playing with him, the pressure abruptly disappears and leaves him achingly empty.

“Oh, you absolute bastard,” Tony groans, thunking his head against the shelf in front of him and then sucking in a sharp breath when Bucky laughs roughly and drags his fingertips in light circles around Tony’s hole. “Would you just-“ Tony cuts off into a breathy whine when Bucky’s fingers just barely start to press into him again, trying to arch his back harder like he can force Bucky’s fingers back inside him despite the way Bucky has him thoroughly pinned in place, completely helpless as Bucky’s fingers continue dragging wetly around and around his clenching hole, until Tony’s every breath is coming out as a pleading whine.

When Bucky finally pushes his fingers back in he does it slowly, so slowly, making sure Tony can feel every shift and press, working him back right back to the edge with steady, inescapable thrusts of his fingers and then pushing him higher. Until Tony has no idea how he hasn’t already broken and he can’t even try to rock back into it anymore, can’t move, can only take it.

“Fuck, love the way you shake for me,” Bucky growls, all hot breath and teeth against the line of Tony’s throat as he crooks his fingers a little harder, and then has to crowd in against Tony a little more to help keep him upright as Tony’s legs give out entirely.

Tony’s legs might be useless noodles at this point but that doesn’t stop them from shaking with overstimulation, his hips jerking and twitching in place with every deep press of Bucky’s fingers. Tony’s entire body is shaking like he’s been hit with a live wire and he’s crying out every breath, his fingers going numb from how tightly he’s gripping the edge of the shelf.

“Look so fuckin’ good like this, blissed out an’ shaking’ with it, can barely even hold yourself up,” Bucky growls, pressing down harder on Tony’s prostate and Tony’s entire body jolts hard, his hands sliding off the shelf and his bare feet sliding against the floor.

After a second of scrambling Tony manages to cross his arms across the shelf, burying his face against his forearms to try and muffle his wail. Partially because he’s so close and fuck Tony might just die if they get interrupted before Bucky finally lets him cum, if it’s not soon, and also because he doesn’t want to miss the honestly filthy words spilling out of Bucky’s mouth.

“C’mon sugar, wanna feel you come on my fingers,” Bucky says, a low rumbling growl against the curve of Tony’s shoulder, “always clench down so damn tight around me, sound so gorgeous, wanna hear you sobbin’ for me.” He thrusts his fingers in hard again and then twists, stretching Tony’s loose rim a little more and even that is enough to have Tony’s entire body jolting, another ragged cry tearing out of him. “Fuckin’ love this, don’t you baby?” Bucky demands roughly, “bein’ worked open and stuffed full? Pinned and helpless an’ just takin it, lettin’ me play with you however I want until you’re beggin’ for it just- like- this?”

The final couple words are punctuated with a too-brief drag of Bucky’s fingertips over his prostate, sending bolts of pleasure through him that are right on the edge of too-much and god it’s not enough. Tony is only vaguely aware that he’s trying to beg, but keeping track of the broken attempts at words and ragged sounds spilling past his slack lips is far less important than the sensations rushing through him.

Tony would much rather focus on trying to shove himself back to meet the press of Bucky’s fingers, no matter how little he’s actually accomplishing, right up until Bucky presses in impossibly closer and Tony is left completely immobile. Bucky’s metal fingers disappear from his hip to instead tangle in his hair, yanking Tony’s head back with one hard tug and Tony has no hope of muffling or containing the loud cry that escapes him. All he knows is the deep, insistent press of Bucky inside him, the burning pleasure and ache as his spine is pulled into a sharp arch and Bucky’s fingers seem to press impossibly deeper.

“Fuck-“ Tony chokes out, panting brokenly for air and then whining when even that simple motion lights up his entire body, like he’s just one giant struck nerve and his face is wet with sweat or tears or both as he finally manages to gasp out “please—“

“I can feel how fucking close you are, sweet thing, how much you need it,” Bucky says, lips trailing up Tony’s neck and when Tony tries to wiggle in his hold, to rock himself down onto Bucky’s fingers, anything, Bucky’s teeth catch at the corner of his jaw to hold him in place. “Don’t you wanna come for me baby?” Bucky demands once Tony goes relatively still in his hold, hard tremors still running through him as Bucky’s fingers continue to thrust and press and twist inside him. “Don’t you wanna make a fuckin’ mess of yourself for me? Let me watch you wobble back to our room, legs still shaking’ and cum coolin’ on your skin, flushed and dazed and gorgeous, wanna let me lick you clean and put you to bed still sloppy and reekin’ like sex?”

“I- I- ahh—“ Tony wants to say that god does he want that, he’s so close, but every drag of Bucky’s fingers is melting every thought out of his head and Tony is nearly screaming out every exhale and he can’t stop, shaking too hard to properly fuck himself back onto Bucky’s hand and fuck he’s so close—

“C’mon Tony, give it to me,” Bucky snarls, rocking his hips against Tony and circling his fingers hard over Tony’s prostate and that’s it.

Tony’s loud cry cuts off as his voice breaks, and instead he’s left making hoarse, breathy noises as he comes, wave after wave of pleasure rushing over him, dragging him under. He can barely hear anything past his own pulse throbbing in his ears, his orgasm dragging on and on with every relentless shove of Bucky’s fingers still working into him until Tony’s brain finally whites out to the sound of his own hitching, wailing moan.

When Tony zones back in, both of Bucky’s arms are wound around his waist, holding him steady as Tony continues twitching with fading aftershocks. His pants are back in place, although the front of them is indeed a mess of his own cooling cum, and Tony has to forcibly remind himself why just falling asleep right here is a bad idea.

And it’s not because he can feel Bucky’s cock still pressed hard and warm against his hip, no matter how distracting of a realization that is.

“What time is it?” Tony asks roughly, because his mind might be a little (a lot) blown, and he really wants to do something about the way Bucky is rocking minutely against him while he lets Tony catch his breath, but not as much as Tony wants to not get another lecture about public indecency. It always makes him feel a little too much like he’s back in college.

There’s a tellingly long silence before Bucky clears his throat and says, “Uh… we should probably get back to our own room pretty soon.”

The hoarse, gravely sound of Bucky’s voice has heat valiantly trying to swell in Tony’s gut again, but Tony forces himself to focus on arguing “You should probably carry me back to our room, because what even are legs. I don’t think I have them, I certainly cannot feel them.”

Bucky laughs but seems all too happy to oblige in scooping Tony up off the ground, even if it is more in an up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes way than Tony would really prefer. He’s about to complain, but then Bucky’s hand settles over the curve of his ass and Tony decides he can live with it, and at least this will keep the rapidly cooling cum soaked through the front of his pajamas from rubbing against his skin.

It’s not until they’re in the elevator that Tony’s brain comes back online enough for him to remember all of Bucky’s filthy promises, and Tony grins at the small of Bucky’s back as he says, “I guess if you really want I’ll try wobbling around like a drunken baby giraffe when we reach our floor, but frankly I’m more invested in the ‘licking’ part of your plan.”

Bucky hums, equal parts amused and thoughtful, and Tony’s breath catches hard as Bucky shifts his grip a little, his fingers easily dipping between Tony’s cheeks through his thin pajamas.

#My fic #Winteririon #buckytony #starkbucks #bucky/tony #you ever accidentally develop a brand #and then decide you might as well lean into it?#anyways here’s more fooling around in a pantry for some reason

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